Vocalize
by Deltana
Summary: With a lacking family life and a new arrival in town Edward finds himself daring for someone to believe in again. RoyEd: AU This story is in the process of a re-write.
1. Our Lives

_**VOCALIZE: **_

_**Our Lives-**_

I loathe you.

You never loved me, just used me for what I was good at.

Rubbers had a more useful purpose than I ever would to you. At least they can be bought brand new each time an unused one is needed and be discarded without consequence once dirtied. Too bad I cannot boast the same claim.

Reflecting back on it now, I understand, that as much as I hate to be proven wrong they were right and I was the one that was mistaken. I should not have followed you. No matter what sweet words you said, no matter the grand illusions you spun where you and I were equal partners in everything that was important, you were just lying to my face. I should have noticed the jaded mirth in your eyes when my back was turned.

I should not have believed in you, worshiping the ground you walked on as if I meant as much to you as you did to me. If I hadn't been so hot-headed and defensive on your behalf I might have noticed what everyone was talking about. Unfortunately, once I got an idea in my head, nothing but blunt proof could convince me that I was wrong. It was always like that.

_"Mmm… shorty, why are you so tense? This isn't the first time you've done this." You would seductively whisper anything to me whenever I wanted to stop. I think you were trying to forget that it was you that started this, without my consent or approval. You took from me what I was not ready to give, but like always that didn't matter to you. _

Sometimes I wonder if you ever felt the sharp sting of regret. I know I have.

It's your fault she found out about the twisted things we were doing and died as a result. The consequence of him afflicting me everyday would not have happened if it weren't for you. At least, that is what I wanted to believe. But now I know better, he reminds me everyday.

This perverse existence I lead is all my fault.

It's continuously my culpability.

_Slap. "If you weren't so fucked up, she would still be here!"_

_Grab. "Why did you have to drag her into your shit, huh? Couldn't stand not having attention? Well congratulations, you have my attention now."_

I don't fight back anymore. It shames me to admit that. I used to defend myself, a couple years back, when I still knew who I was. But not now. Instead, I just take it all in, the pain, accusations and humility are mine to accept.

I can see my brother's pale face in the open silver of light from the doorway. This routine never changes. Ever since he found out about what was going on behind his back he watches me get beaten down with loss carved into his face. Maybe he's waiting for the day when he can intervene and put a stop to our farce of a family.

I don't have the heart to tell him that day cannot arrive unless over my dead body.

But I'm okay with it now. As long as that bastard doesn't touch him, I can find some measure of peace. Even if it means my pride gets beaten in a way that I am unsure of how I could ever resurrect it. He is the only thing I have left to live for. If he were to die, whatever is left of who I used to be would be gone too. So I have to keep protecting him.

I say that, but I can't bring myself to answer his calls as I lay on the carpeted floor.

Sometimes I wish life could change. I spit out the blood and sit up shakily.

Maybe the reason I take this punishment is more complicated than compensating for my guilt or to protect him. She would not have wanted either of us to live like this after all.

Perhaps I accept it to wait for someone who I can believe in again.

* * *

I entered the store on a mission. Al had kindly sent me to purchase a selection of groceries in sickeningly blazing hot weather. The kind where downtown kids see who can fry an egg faster on the melting pavement. I still hold the record of three minutes and my mother thought it was adorable that I was practicing my culinary skills. She told me I could become a world famous chef if I wanted. I think she wanted to see me smile.

That was the kind of person she used to be. Always looking on the bright side, trying to make people feel confident about themselves. She never lied to anyone, yet wasn't afraid to exaggerate the truth a bit to get them inspired. I don't think I ever saw her act anything but genuine. Especially when it concerned her two favourite young men.

The near frigid store air hit me with a blast of air conditioned wind that blew onto my face, bangs falling in my eyes and tickling me annoyingly. With a grumble, I reached up to swat them away, but grimaced slightly at my spontaneous move.

I'd been coming to this store for something like nine years. I think it was built sometime near the dawn of time. The previous owner had been a corpulent little man. Beard, moustache, bald head and all, he was quite stocky, I daresay shorter than myself. But he possessed a decent sense of humour nonetheless that made us get along fairly well. The issue of my height was never addressed, (what hypocritical person would call me short when he was even less of stature)? He chose his battles well.

Last I'd heard, his health had begun to fail in his later years of operation, and by request of his wife, had decided to sell the business to someone more capable. The new owner was supposedly from out of town, but no one new specifically from where. An unusual thing to happen in a small town as gossip travels faster than light.

I was glad to see that the original name of the store was still posted up at the entrance. It would've changed something vital if the name were tampered with since the title explained it all.

A person could find anything here: food, cleaners, books, junk munchies, and even some selective clothes. Could there be a better place to poke around on a hot day?

The temperature inside gave this building the allusion of an icebox, and was a beautiful break from the possibility of acquiring heat stroke outside.

However, I am a man of business.

_First Item: Eggs (Check)_

_Second Item: Razors (Check) _even if I was a little unsure on this one. When I said everything was here, I seriously meant it. I was curious why Al would get me to pick up something so obscure, but like the generous brother I am I decided to continue.

By the _'Seventeenth Item' _I can undoubtedly say that the guy behind the counter was starting to creep me out. He had been starring at me since I set foot in the store! Granted I was the only one currently inside. But still, he looked enough like a rich boy so couldn't he buy himself some manners?

Most girls would have been freaked out by the stalker-like man at this point; the idiot was going to lose business if he kept this up with all of the customers.

I glared at him briefly and went back to my work. I think I imagined a smirk crawl across his face.

I finally reached the last _'Item' _on my list! I paused, and then scowled. Was Al doing this just to be the stereotypical annoying younger brother? He knew I hated even thinking about this particular grievance to the world. Stupid jerk.

I stood facing the cooler, my reflection quivering before me faintly. With my eyes shut in concentration I reached for the chrome handle. I could do this damn it! The stupid thing wasn't going to bite me from in the carton.

Let me clarify: I fucking hate milk. Anyone who knows me knows that.

My hand withdrew and I licked the sweat from my upper lip, bit down on the bottom one tightly, forcefully yanking the door open and retrieved the putridly disgusting liquid. Al would owe me big time for this.

As I made my way up to the check out counter I kept the vile thing as far away from me as possible, my arm stretched out to it's limits. I could care less if I looked ridiculous, a person never could be too careful with something so deceiving.

The bastard at the counter chuckled at -one- of my traumas. I immediately dubbed him under the category of an ass.

I mean sure he was gorgeous and all, I'm willing to admit it. But good looking people usually don't have the personality to match their looks.

His store nametag titled him as _'Roy Mustang, Manager'_. So he was the new owner, who apparently had yet to hire any staff. Were he not so instantly insufferable I might have applied for a position, seeing as I was out of school for good. I had no real desire to go to college. And my last job ended rather… horribly.

I paid him for the goods and prepared to leave, wary of the conflicting emotions playing on his face, dismissing him until I felt his hand gently wrap around my wrist. The same one that had been painfully sprained the night before that Al wrapped afterwards.

Once he saw my teeth grit and jaw clench he quickly let go and apologized.

What was his deal?

I glared at him again and patiently waited for him to explain whatever the hell his problem was.

"Sorry about that," he grinned, "I'm new here, and I was just wondering if you could tell me where the library is?" His dark eyes focused directly on mine and I felt my cheeks involuntarily heat up. I hoped I wasn't coming down with something for how hot they felt.

Not to be judgmental or anything, but I had the general consumption that clerk uniforms made even the handsomest people look less than what they appeared. But not him. If anything, the dark blue enhanced everything about him. From his black hair to the pale skin. He was actually making me nervous, like some kind of predator versus prey scenario.

I sighed in defeat and placed my bags of groceries on the floor, dug a pencil and paper out of my jacket and wrote down my answer.

My penmanship used to be horrible, completely untranslatable even by the most talented. But, due to my loose tongue I had to vastly improve for situations such as these when I was forced to communicate.

He blinked confusingly when I handed him the scrap of loose leaf.

'_Next to the Church.'_

Without saying a word, he looked outside the window, a few streets down at the prominent golden lined bricks of the local preacher house.

"You know kid; you could have just told me that. Or are you too shy?"

Stupid bastard. Who the hell did he think he was dealing with?

My rage showed bluntly on my face, as my golden eyebrows nearly connected and my lips drew back across my face menacingly. I wasn't a fucking kid!

He laughed softly at me, "You sure are a spit fire. The name's Roy Mustang, mind telling me what yours is?"

I took him for a deadbeat; did he not realize that his name was displayed for the world too see in bright red letters, pinned to his shirt? Well, maybe he was trying to be proper, manners and all that.

Against my better judgment, rather than reply, I grabbed the paper back.

'_Edward.'_

There really was no need for him to know my last name, so I tossed it back to him, picked up my bags and left the cool fresh air to venture into the heat once again.

* * *

"Brother, did you enjoy your time at the store?" Al took the groceries from me and began to put them away while I plopped down in the kitchen chair. I would be lying if I said that I wasn't exhausted. My forehead felt nice against the cool wood table.

"I'm surprised that you actually got this," He grinned as he held up the milk carton and I put on my fiercest scowl.

Al just laughed, "You knew we had to get some sometime! How do you expect me to make you stew if we don't have it?"

He did have a good point. Al had Mom's old recipe, the one that made my mouth water at the thought. I could live on it, and he knew it.

Suddenly, he turned back from the fridge and faced me, "I forgot Brother, Dad left a few hours ago," That didn't surprise me. "…and he said he'd be gone for tonight."

I let go of the air I was unconsciously holding in my chest and sighed deeply in relief. Last night had been a nightmare. I honestly didn't think I could endure another round of consequences so soon.

Al noticed the look I had and decided to lighten the subject. "But, while you were out, that movie we ordered in the mail came in. So you can watch it if you want. I'll join you after I'm done with supper."

Numbly I nodded and left for the living room. I tried to imagine I didn't see the shimmer of tears in his eyes at my mute reply. I couldn't stand to see the guilt on his face whenever the subject of our Father was brought up. I knew what he was thinking and remembering. The soft sobs kind of gave it away. Even after all these years he still cried for us when I couldn't.

'_What the hell is wrong with you?'_

'_You bastard! It wasn't my fault already! Look, she came there of her own free will and you have to accept that fact. Maybe if you hadn't left her and looked after her like a husband is supposed to do instead of drinking yourself drunk, she would still be here! Only a coward would do less!'_

_In a blind rage he lunged, "You little-! How dare you speak to me that way!" His strong hands that used to pat my back on a job well done or stroke my hair after a nightmare clenched tightly around a rather vulnerable area of my body._

_That was our first fight that Al had witnessed, and I wish he had never seen it._

_When he took me to the hospital, doctors told me that the damage was irreversible and Al knew that I would never be the same again.'_

Apparently, my vocal cords that I took for granted when I spoke my opinion loudly or laughed at a silly joke are just a delicate privilege. Once smashed with the brute force of strangulation they crapped out on me, taking away the biggest part of who I was with them .

That fight was the last time I spoke.

And Al still hasn't forgiven himself for standing there and letting it happen.

Quite frankly, I will never forgive _myself_.

* * *

_AN: Recently I wandered back to this, almost scared to see what it sounded like after such a long time. It wasn't as bad as I feared but I felt it could use a clean up to make it easier to read. There won't be major plot changes so there's probably not much point in re-reading if you've already seen this._

_Before I forget: __**Disclaimer**__- This plot does not belong to me, even though it is an __**AU**__ fic. This one disclaimer will serve for all possible future chapters._

_Future chapters for anyone who hasn't already read this include: violence and language and should only be viewed by people comfortable with those situations. _


	2. Our Resistance

**_VOCALIZE:_**

_**Our Resistance-**_

I blame you.

You must have known that she would come looking for me after that phone call. There's no way that you didn't plan for it to happen that way. You knew that someone would die that night, but I never imagined it would be her. If she hadn't tried to protect me, she would be here now, instead of rotting in a beautiful grave.

I know they were the ones to fire first, I'll never forget that dark, tall figure plummeting a bullet into her chest. I never even saw his face through my delusional state and screaming.

Is that why you ran and left me alone at a crime scene?

I met you when I was still at school, you were in your senior year and I a couple behind.

My first instincts pegged you off as a bad egg, too bad I didn't listen.

You followed me home one night, and I chose that particular time to take a shortcut through the park.

I've _never_ felt so helpless.

After that, you claimed me as yours.

I think you only wanted me for what you saw.

But…

Envy, did you know that, miraculously, _I_ loved you?

* * *

Honestly, Al is lucky that I love him. I bet he doesn't even realize _how_ much of his crap I have to put up with, every single day.

Sure being an older brother does have its perks, but it sure has some horrible prospects.

Like, per say, being woken up at five thirty in the morning to go and see a sunrise at the lake. Definitely not on my list of joyful activities. Especially on a Saturday morning that I could have slept to three in the afternoon with no complaint.

While literally dragging my ass off of the couch, he whined that we weren't spending any time together anymore and that he felt like I was ignoring him.

I can't even put into words how much he sounded like a clingy girl. I'd never say that though. Or _so_ I tell my self as I rub the still tingling area of my head that was smacked by him.

And what the hell is he talking about, we spend plenty of time together, and I do not ignore him! Well, maybe a little bit…

It's not like we have a lot to discuss!

'_So Brother, did you enjoy the movie?'_

Nod.

'_Are you going to sleep on the couch?'_

Double nod.

'_Would you like eggs for breakfast?'_

Shrug.

'_How about milk?'_

Penetrating glare of a thousand knives.

'_Just making sure that you were actually listening to what I was saying. Fine then, sausage?'_

Grin.

'_You're going to have health problems later in life with all of the greasy food you eat.'_

Scowl with a pointed glare.

'_I know, I know, Brother. But even cookies have fat in them.'_

Pout.

I mean for goodness sakes, to a stranger it would sound as if Al was having a conversation with himself, no matter how much I do contribute. Besides, my neck is constantly cramping up with all of the exercise it gets during the day.

A year after the whole… incident happened; a school counsellor suggested that I take up sign language to better communicate with those around me. I guess she was afraid I was gonna become some dejected hermit just because of a speech deficiency. After her pathetic little spout of psychiatric garbage, I promptly flipped her off and left. That was _all _the sign language I would _ever_ need. I think she got my point.

Alphonse pulled me to the painted wood bench and smiled, "See Brother. Now aren't you glad you came with me? You sleep so much, that you miss things like this."

Orange rays spilled over us and reflected off of the water in small sections, as if gold were scattered through it during the night, waiting for dawn to come. I have to agree that it was very pretty. But, I still would have preferred sleep.

Yet, when I looked over to Al, he seemed so happy, and I decided that perhaps this wasn't _so_ bad.

* * *

"Brother, would you hurry up? I still don't see how you can be tired. It's a beautiful day and you're wasting it dragging your feet."

Slowly, I caught up to my energetic sibling and cursed his random adrenalin rushes. For god's sake! He had been dragging me all around the friggin' town mercilessly, with no brakes. What did he think I was, a robust Olympian god that could run around all day throwing javelins and slaying dragons? He should have known by now that I _rarely_ go outside and get exercise like he does.

I mean, what kind of possessed soul, other than he, chose to walk nearly three goddamned miles? Not including the insane psychopaths mind you.

People had _vehicles_ for that sort of thing.

When I pointed to a passing car and then to us he grinned and I grimaced. "But, Brother if we did that how could we have this much fun?"

I've never had such a _strong_ urge to punch his eyes in.

Finally, he allowed me to sit (or rather collapse) on a picnic table in a kid's playground.

My physical physique was actually quite admirable to most people. I just got a little out of shape after PhysEd left my life. Much to my brother's disappointment.

"You aren't even going to come to the stand with me? The line is so long… How am I going to entertain myself without having you there to bug?" He innocently asked while patting my head.

How cruel could the world be that my little brother was taller than me? Even if it's only a couple inches. He knew how much it bothered me, and so he decided to constantly make fun of me for it. I think the grinding of my teeth sent my message across.

Al laughed and began fishing for some change in his pocket. "So, what kind should I get you?"

I hadn't really thought about that…

You'd assume that since I hate milk I wouldn't enjoy something as abundant in the substance as ice cream. However, the truth was quite the contrary.

I gestured to the kid walking past us.

"Chocolate it is then! Just wait here Brother; it might take a while to get it."

Unknowingly, I glared at his retreating back. Why was everyone treating me like a little kid? First that guy in the store yesterday and now Al. It wasn't as if someone would come and kidnap me if he left me for half a second.

Speaking of that intolerable bastard of a businessman, he chose that exact moment to plop his ass down across from where I was sitting. Why in the hell was he even here? It was far too fishy to be a coincidence.

He smirked at my sudden startle, looking like he was enjoying it. "I saw you and another kid walking earlier, so I just had to follow you."

_What? _Did he have any idea how much of a scary stalker he just sounded? Obviously not…

"I figured I'd have a hard time finding you again. And you left so quickly yesterday that I didn't even get a chance to talk to you."

Yeah, _idiot_. That was kind of the point.

"So, wanna tell me who you were with earlier? Was he your brother or something? Or maybe a boyfriend."

I imagine I paled before snorting in disgust. That was just weird. Was it _that _obvious that I wasn't straight?

I stared at him for a moment, and then reconsidered. He seemed to be testing me. Surely _he_ wasn't…

"You know, you don't talk very much. I'm starting to think that you don't like me." He flashed me a brilliant smile that I nearly melted into, until I remembered my place and scowled.

Didn't talk much? _What_ an understatement.

He opened his mouth to say more, but Al graciously came back with two cones right before he had the chance.

Alphonse glanced curiously at my (unwanted) dark haired companion and then turned to me. "Brother, who is this?"

I noted the pleased expression in said man's face at his correct guess of me strolling with my sibling.

He stood abruptly and would have shook Al's hands, were he not carting cold desserts. "Roy Mustang. I met your brother yesterday at my store."

"You didn't mention anything Ed…" I could tell he was saddened that I didn't share _every_ detail of my life. But, like usual, he found something to spring back on. "Oh! You're the guy that bought 'Goodies Galore'. Pleased to meet you. I'm Alphonse Elric."

"_Elric_ eh?" Mustang grinned at me triumphantly.

Way to go Al, just give away my identity why don't you?

"Yes, I am. Unlike you though, I'm having a very difficult time getting anything out of your brother. Is there a reason he's too afraid to talk to me?" He jerked his hand to me absently.

Alphonse looked at me and I shook my head.

I didn't want this guy knowing _why_ I was the way I am. He had _no_ business meddling in matters that didn't concern him.

Al laughed shakily, "It's nothing personal sir. He… _can't_ speak."

If I could force enough noise out of my throat, I would have laughed at the stunned expression on his face. It felt nice to _finally_ have some ground on him.

He stared at me as if to say, _'you could have told me'_, but then decided against it for obvious reasons.

I certainly thought it was funny. I mean come on! A guy trying everything to get a kid to talk that couldn't! It was purely comical genius.

Too bad he didn't think so.

I saw it before he even had the chance to speak.

_Pity._

The one fucking thing I hate more than anything. More than my father, more than my handicap, even more than Envy, a look of absolute pity.

I rose quickly and stomped away, not even to check if Al was following.

What a fucking ass! I could have killed him for looking at me like that.

I heard Alphonse tread up to me and place a warm hand on my shoulder, both cones forgotten in the other.

"I know it's hard Brother. But, I'm sure he didn't mean to-"

A weak tear that ran past my eyes stopped him immediately. And I heard him drop the sweets completely on the pavement and felt him embrace me in a rough hug.

"I'm _so_ sorry Brother. We shouldn't have come out at all."

I reached around and patted his back.

You're right Al, we shouldn't have. And _I'm_ sorry too.

* * *

_AN: Thank you to all you wonderful reviewers and readers! Your support is extremely appreciated. Hopefully you all liked this chapter; I know I had fun typing it._

_Once again, I would like some feedback for my effort._


	3. Our Sanity

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Sanity-**_

I enthral you.

After your little pleasure escapade at my expense, I changed completely. All of my innocence turned to arrogance and selfishness. I was cruel, cold, unfeeling, and just like you.

I think I did it to protect myself, from you especially, but my plan backfired. Originally, I thought you only lusted after me for my defiant nature and because I refused to give you the time of day. I was wrong.

You loved my new 'self' even more than what I used to be. Maybe what you wanted was not to break me, but to morph my being completely into something you desired.

At first no one, not even my parents noticed. Al, though, knew me better than anybody, possible even more than I did, and he saw. He cried when I pushed him away without telling him that you were watching my every move and that you may kill him. I shoved everything away from myself in order to protect it. However, people mistook it for a belief that I thought myself to be better than them.

Al would pound on my door, asking what he did wrong and _why_ I hated him.

I would silently sob on the other side and hate you more for what you had done.

Then again, you always were a sick bastard, Envy.

You started to call me _Pride_.

* * *

I can't stand salesmen. Idiots pounding on your door at the worst possible times (usually when I'm in the shower), asking whether or not you want to buy the new _Sweeper_ _2000 Limited Edition _vacuum cleaner. Seriously! And if they can't get you in person, they phone constantly, interrupting your life.

It is especially annoying when you have a younger brother that scolds you and says that telling a professional man to _'fuck off'_, is no way to behave, even if it's not in public. What was I supposed to do, believe him that I had magically won a trip to Cambodia with free tequila included? I think not.

But, despite my murderous intent to most of them, the phone calls for amputees always get to me, and I don't know why it's different! I almost want to give them money, as if I 'm empathetic to their situations. Unfortunately, I am a poor soul that usually wears the _same_ pair of socks for five days in a row, so I really don't have the money to spare.

Hence, when I heard a knock on the door a quarter after midnight, I immediately assumed it was a beefy sales man coming to be slaughtered.

Shuffling noisily, I turned onto my side and ignored it. Alphonse and my father were asleep in their respective rooms, but not I. I just had to be rebellious and -once again- doze on our black leather couch.

Which, by the way, _I_ had picked out.

My Mom had been complaining about our dejected foam sofa for a while, that she sounded on the verge of nagging, to my father. He was the one that used to nap there constantly, so he eventually agreed to her ideals for a change.

I however, was slightly recalcitrant to be carted by Al to a fancy furniture store on a freezing cold winter afternoon. The cold always has made my joints burn and crack, to my bewilderment.

But, Mom began to tear up, using guilt to get me to come. I swear that has got to be one of my greatest weaknesses. People crying.

So, I followed and while they pursued the grounds for a suitable chesterfield I flopped down on the first one I saw. Nearly an hour later I was rudely woken up by Al nudging my temple with his elbow as Mom squealed in delight. She excitedly told me that I had found the perfect candidate for our house.

Apparently, I act _more_ intelligent when I don't think about what I'm doing. Maybe that's why I slept through so many exams and managed to pass anyway.

Regardless, my half asleep state shattered from another, more insistent, knock on our oak door. I nearly yelled for Al to answer it. Perhaps I _really_ was out of it.

With a grumble I stood and patriotically stomped to the door, prepared to defend my god-given right of sleep.

I opened my mouth, preparing to yell something loud and obscene, such as my famous 'fuck off' speech, until I remembered that it was years ago when I had last done that. That I couldn't anymore.

So I settled for a snarl.

Ripping it open, I was met not with the sight of what I thought, but of a certain _stray_ Mustang.

His gaze was fixed on our porch; head hung down like a broken appendage. I heard him sigh miserably as his fist rose again and hit my chest twice.

My eyebrow twitched in annoyance. What the hell did he think I was a piece of wood to beat on? Maybe the bastard was drunk or something.

Somehow, the thought of that made me depressed.

In alarm, his eyes lifted and nearly popped off his face when he met my irritated gaze.

He apologized discreetly and harrumphed while raising his stature to tower over me, to my disappointment.

Need I re-mention that my height is a very… sensitive issue? And supposedly an effective weapon or so Alphonse says.

"I came to request for forgiveness."

Now it was my turn to nearly lose my sight to shock.

"I believe I may have done something to upset you when we last met, and, I'm sorry."

I blinked repeatedly, not really sure of what to say. It wasn't everyday that a pompous egotistical man appeared on my doorstep after midnight to offer an apology for something he was not aware of. Thus, I chose to merely nod.

We stood facing each other nervously for a moment, me lazily leaning on the doorframe and him twiddling his fingers absently. I don't know about him, but I was never good with situations such as these.

Suddenly, he reached and grabbed my hand, pulling me out of my house, the door closing soundlessly.

I looked up to him in confusion but he just smiled back at me. "Let's go for a walk."

_A walk? _This late at night? Surely he couldn't be serious, didn't he know that this was when robbers and criminals came out to attack random people for pleasure or gain?

Well, I guess I would be more informed on such people, due to my earlier years.

He must have noticed my hesitation for he smirked haughtily, "Don't worry. I'm a retired police officer. I surely would know how to deal with someone attacking you."

_A police officer? _Can't say I was expecting that.

But, the thought comforted me, and I never even thought to remove my hand from his grasp.

Mustang led me to a rural-looking park, nearly on the other side of town.

I remembered this place well. After all many things happened here, most of which I _try_ not to dwell on.

He ushered me onto one of the old wooden swings and started to push me.

When Al and I used to fight periodically, more with fists than words, he would run off to this place and stare at the tiny stream behind the forest of trees. Usually it took me hours to go and find him, at my Mother's kind nudge.

Not many people came here, due to the decaying nature of the equipment. Most parents thought it was far too dangerous for their precious glass creations to tread upon, so they banned them from coming. Al and I, however, it was like we were made of steel. We hardly ever got hurt playing on the rusty teeter-totter or on the swings whose ropes were frayed and overused. We thought we were indestructible. And we never wavered to fighting on top of the monkey bars to see who could be the king.

But, we don't pull stunts like that anymore. At least, Alphonse won't let me engage in any such thing. I think he realized how fragile we are, and that we could break at a moment's notice. Just as I _did_.

Slowly, Mustang propelled me higher until I felt the wind rushing past my ears. I turned back to glance at him, he was smiling, so I mirrored the sight.

Until a small fact came to my mind.

Hadn't he said that he just moved here, and was unfamiliar with the area? Then _how_ could he have possibly known that this secluded place was here?

I forcefully dug my feet into the cool sand beneath me, relishing the damp moisture on my house slippers.

"What's wrong?"

Mustang titled his head strangely when I turned back to face him. Understandably, he must have thought that he had done something wrong and upset me.

I gestured to our surroundings and then pointed to him, praying that he would understand, since I had no writing tools with me.

His brow furrowed in thought. Sighing quietly, I steered his attention to the streetlights over the hedges surrounding us and then poked him.

He (thankfully) dawned in understanding and sat in the swing adjacent to me.

"I used to live here a couple of years ago."

I blinked in disbelief.

"Some things have changed, like the library they built, but other things," he gestured to the peaceful atmosphere around us, "like this, stay the same."

I'll admit that I was quite baffled. And, being the curious teen that I was, continued to stare at him with a questioning expression.

"Why?"

I nodded in confirmation. He was catching on to my movements and gestures faster than I thought he would.

Mustang's gaze became darker, more distant, and he lowered his eyes, unconsciously picking at a loose rock buried in the sand with the toe of his boot.

"I… made a mistake, one that I never forgave myself for. I left without telling anybody, leaving most of my belongings and treasures behind, not really sure where it was that I was going." A flame sparked in his ultramarine eyes, I found myself fascinated with the hypnotic determination that shone through. "But I realized that I had to come back, and give my condolences to the one I hurt."

His hands were noticeably shaking, and I chose to stop the interrogation. I didn't like people messing around in my past, so why should he?

Distractedly, I picked up a dead twig beside me, twirled it in my fingers, and then began to etch something into the sand.

I heard the swing creak as Mustang leaned over to peer at what I was doing.

'_You were running away.'_

He chuckled and I tossed the temporary writing instrument away. "Figures you would think that."

I glared at him, assuming that he was mocking my intelligence.

"It took two years of dependent therapy for my psychiatrist to tell me what you just did in a minute."

Bashfully, I beamed at the hidden comment laced through his words. Yet, I felt the need to do more.

I pointed to myself and held up two fingers.

"You two, huh?" He asked with a sad smile.

I grinned and pulled him up off the slab of plywood, ready to leave.

After all, it was getting kind of chilly with _only_ my pyjamas on.

* * *

I let go of his warm hand at the start of my block, standing under the street lamp.

I knew the light was making my hair shine a bright gold, but for once, I ignored it.

Because Mustang chose that moment to kiss my forehead and I closed my eyes in embarrassment.

Normally, I would hate being treated like a little kid by such a gesture. I _still_ don't understand why it was different when he did it compared to my aunt.

When I opened them to say goodbye he was already gone.

Shaking my head at his strange antics, I wandered to my house slowly, not very eager to go back.

That is until I hear Al's voice screaming _hysterically_.

My neck snapped up so quickly, I think I may have pulled a muscle and I dashed up to our front door.

The scene I was met with _should_ have angered me more than anything.

Father was tromping down our wooden staircase, Al chasing him, desperately trying to halt his movements.

They were screaming about me, and I vaguely remember looking to the kitchen clock.

1:45 AM.

_Shit._

"Where in the _hell_ have you been?!"

I looked up into the sharp, piercing eyes of my father and _trembled_.

* * *

_AN: Reviews!! -Glomps- thank you people, I love you all! I was drugged up with Buckley's, Cepacol, and Advil during the construction of this chapter, so I apologize for any mistakes I missed._

_The more people comment, the quicker I update. _


	4. Our Grief

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Grief-**_

I beseech you.

I recall holding her head, watching as she slowly drifted away from me. The gun still in my grasp lay forgotten in my palm.

Her eyes looked up to me, and I turned mine to watch you scurry through the back alley making your greatest escape yet. I'll never let go of the raw betrayal that I felt.

He came as they tried to organize the small crowd that gathered. In horror he stared at me, his _son_, holding his Mother dead, covered in blood, with a gun.

How perfect was that?

I bet you calculated each and every step that we made. Like puppets on a string you orchestrated your most magnificent production, and I was the star. The lead role, with no responsibilities attached to my pathetic part.

But you, you reaped the benefits, watching from wherever you left to as my father had a mental breakdown after losing the one thing that had kept him sane in the world. You _must_ be enjoying the torment that what's left of my family goes through each and every day.

Hell, if I saw him the same as he did me, I may have tried to kill him too.

It was a new version of tragic Greek drama.

Envy, I should have reputed when a delinquent like you said that Shakespeare was your _idol_.

* * *

"Brother, would you just sit _still_ for one minute?"

I struggled to sit up as Al fought to keep me down. He knows that I despise lying on my back, completely defenceless. Yet, he stubbornly refuses to let me up.

"Stop being a stubborn mule!"

Oh, he just read _my_ mind.

Were it not for this obtuse sling on my arm, I could have revolted. In my younger days, I dared to dub myself _'Houdini the Amazing Escapologist II'_. There was not a situation in which I could not escape from. Even when my traitorous sibling dared to lock me in Granny Pinako's old chest, which I am proud to say was smaller than myself; I prevailed, and was rewarded chocolate cake.

Wouldn't you know that the situation _had_ to be so reversed?

I guess I should consider myself lucky. At least, that's the kind of baloney that Al and that idiotic doctor try to feed to me constantly.

So _screw _that!

Spending three days in a hospital due to a rampaging man twice my size is _completely_ unlucky.

Now I'm stuck with this damn piece of cloth on my arm for two weeks minimum. The oh-so-intelligent man who treated me shook his bony little finger in my face. I was tempted to bite it off, be called a rabid animal and be left alone. However, for reputation sake, I held myself back.

"Now listen here Edward, I don't want you removing this yourself. Don't _you_ give me that look. Two weeks you hear? Meaning fourteen days, 336 hours and 20160 minutes, not a millisecond sooner. Got that son? Well then be on your way now, and _stop_ getting yourself into so many fights! Not becoming for a young man like yourself you know."

As I said, an _idiot_.

And how embarrassing is it that Al had to come up with the lie years ago that I was a regular uncontrollable bronco, trying to beat up anything that came my way or dared to piss on my boot? Very humiliating indeed. He made it sound as though I couldn't fight.

Just because I've never beaten him, does not prove the suggested remark. Besides, Al cheats anyways.

Oh sure, the goody-goody Alphonse would never do something so disrespectful, or so I've heard. _Right…_

That's why his ass is now on top of my face.

I mean, I'm injured for crying out loud! How is this supposed to _help_ my condition?

"Now Ed, you stop struggling and I'll get up. Deal?"

_Hell_ no. I don't go down without a fight.

I carefully fortified what was uncovered of my mouth, moved it sideways to the bit of pink skin poking out of his t-shirt and licked.

To my delight he leaped a foot in the air, apparently quite distressed, "Eww! Brother, you retard!" He futilely rubbed the thin wet trail on the back of his shirt and whined.

That's right baby brother, _squeal_ like a girl and shame yourself.

"Brother, you're gross."

I merely grinned victoriously. After all, not all battles can be won with brute force. Even _I _know that.

That is precisely why I am now laying on Al's bed in his room instead of my own. The bastard left after our little skirmish (as usual), and I for one was not very eager to greet him upon his return.

Our rooms were built joined together by a door when we first came here. So we've come into the habit of sneaking into each other's rooms late at night.

It is kind of funny. During a storm like tonight has brought, with torrential rain for ongoing hours, he would usually scamper into my domain, begging to come under the covers. Once again, it is a reverse situation.

It's not as if I have much of a choice in the matter.

Were I to actually go to the police and report what has been going on these past few years, I would lose _everything_.

Obviously, the bastard would be towed away, which I dream of celebrating each night. But, Al is not eighteen yet, and is still under _his_ guardianship. Were he to leave, social services would be here faster than I could snap my fingers, carting him away from me.

I can't let that happen. And I will never let Al know that what occurs so often is _technically_ his fault.

Just because I am guilty does not mean I have to drag him into it.

After calming down, he sat beside me staring at my injured arm like it was the new hit paradox. "Brother, where did you go before?"

I met his gaze and knew that he was going to get angry.

"Why didn't you just stay here? You know how he gets when you leave! You _could_ have stayed…"

I saw the tears in his eyes and knew he meant well, but he really wasn't helping my guilt issue.

A wooden horse stood on his shelf across the room, one that I had made him for his thirteenth birthday.

At the time I was studying a course called Alchemy, where old men tried to turn lead into gold, and no matter how ridiculous it sounded, I actually found myself drawn to it. My teacher though, tried to drill into my brain that although it would be efficient to clap your hands onto a circle and be left with whatever you want, if we were meant to do such things we would be born as gods and not mortals. Then I told her I was an atheist and was flicked on the forehead for my efforts.

I took her advice more seriously than I let on.

And I had a knack for carving. I don't know how, but it almost felt as though the blade were merely an extension of my hand, like it was a part of my body.

Al loved it and kept it ever since.

I pointed to the small wild-like horse.

"A horse?" My so-intelligent brother asked. As if I had snuck out of my home to go frolic through the tulips with a pony. _Honestly… _

He must have caught on to my blunt annoyance, for he began repeating the term to himself repeatedly, like some member of a virgin sacrificing cult.

"Oh!" Finally. "You mean you went out with that Mr. Mustang?"

I nodded.

He seemed perfectly fine with the notion for thirty seconds, until the gears in his head slowly turned.

"That late at night, you went out _just_ for that?" I could sense the irritation seeping over his tone, so I decided to explain myself.

I brought my finger up to my lips and touched the rough area on his chest where his heart would be located.

We had to come up with some form of communication over the years. These light gestures were much easier for him to grasp onto.

"He told you he was sorry? Well, you should have just said that. I'm glad that he did. And I _can_ see why you didn't want to tell Father."

I acknowledged him briefly.

And I was rudely interrupted from my thoughts by a loud grumbling noise emitting near my stomach.

Al laughed, "You must be hungry after eating that hospital food."

I looked to him hopefully.

"Fine Brother, I'll make you some stew. But it'll take a while."

It didn't matter. Heaven can wait for me and _I _can wait for it.

* * *

I laid there for what seemed near forever. The digital clock beside my head only read 7:30, so I knew Al had only been downstairs for an hour.

Luckily, I was able to forget my hunger issues as another call to nature arose.

Without a second though I tediously rose slowly, just as the doctor told me to do, and began to make my way to my room. The bathroom lay just next to it; hence, it was a much faster route.

I nearly made it, but something shining from the faint light drifting in through the hallway caught my attention.

I picked it up carefully and attempted to bite back the expression of disgust on my face.

Winry, Al and my childhood friend, crazy, egotistical, maniacal, mechanics obsessed female had slaved over building me a watch. She said it was for me, since I was late to everything.

And when I accidentally went swimming with it on, because she neglected to tell me that it wasn't waterproof, the damn thing broke. I'm surprised I didn't acquire a concussion from the crack with the _object-that-looked-suspiciously-similar-to-the-wrench-I-bought-her. _I swear she proceeded to beam me in the head needlessly with it.

Sure she's all head over heels for Al, but when I step in the room, she immediately tries to blame me for breaking _some_ new precious creation of hers.

Once I told her that anyone could have made the mistake for not taking it off and that only a blockhead would make such a fragile watch without warning a person, she (surprisingly) walked away _calmly_.

Two days later she emerged from her basement, that I call a laboratory, and presented me with the strangest thing I had ever seen.

A huge round watch with a strange design etched on the cover, connected to a chain. Like the kind the men in those decrepit movies carry around with tea, biscuits and all that nonsense. _A pocket watch._

She said that only a moron would forget to take it off, and that I'd better not do anything to harm it.

I was quite baffled by it. And yet, I started to use it, and took it with me everywhere I went.

But one day, _'poof'_, it stopped. Died just like that.

I couldn't understand it at first. And certainly never though that it symbolized the day that all of our lives would become _frozen_ in time.

A set it back down on my nightstand, lid still open, and exited my room.

Only to be met with billowing white smoke, surfing out from the kitchen and up the stairs.

"_God damn it!" _

A load of banging noises ensued, and I could only stand rigid at the sound of Al cursing. However mild it may have been. An Al that swore was an Al to hide from _and_ be reckoned with.

When I crept down the wooden stairs I saw him desperately trying to beat out a raging fire from within the oven with a dingy old towel.

I found myself numb as I watched him, my mouth gaping like some abused fish.

Finally, some of his brains kicked in and he grabbed baking soda from the cupboard and threw it in the oven.

His breath came out in ragged snorts, nostrils flared, towel and bright yellow box in hand. As if he had just defeated a foul beast and was _thirsty_ for more blood.

I honestly could not help it.

In pain I fell down to my knees, clutching my stomach, laughing _uncontrollably_.

But that made it even more hilarious. No noise was actually coming out of me, other than a few wheezy breaths. Like some higher above being grabbed the remote and pressed mute. And it made me laugh harder.

Tears began to pinch at my eyes, and I made not attempt to stop them.

Al sighed as he dropped the burnt crisp towel down to the floor.

"Brother, how about some takeout?"

I nodded and continued my slow painful death by lack of air.

There were just some things that one had to find funny.

Besides, it was a glorious break from what I had reminded myself of previously.

The watch lay, forgotten for the time being, hands stuck at _11:00_, never to move again. _Don't forget Oct. 3 _carved into the inside cover.

The day our lives were cut.

After all, this was a play. And the final act was already done on that day. Lives cut as strings, puppets with _no_ more roles to play.

That morning, when my watch ceased to function, _how_ could I have known that that would be the day I would kill my Mother?

But hell, Envy, you knew.

_Didn't you?_

* * *

_AN: A longer wait than usual, I know. However, when one is sick and bedridden for four days, they should take the time to recuperate their brain, rather than try to type a coherent sentence._

_Lovely comments again, so thank you. Please leave any criticisms or comments. _


	5. Our Dreams

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Dreams-**_

"Envy, enough," He growled warningly at the other's advances. However, to the tight grasp of his rear end he squeaked indignantly. "I _said_ fuck off, Envy!"

Said emerald haired (and currently horny) teenager backed off considerably for hesitation to having his fingers bitten through. Sure if it was something else of his that was being attacked, he'd have no problem…

"Chibi, you are simply no fun." He huffed like a child denied candy and crossed his arms.

Twitching slightly at implied shortness, the blonde drew out a cigarette, placing it between his lips and taking a long well deserved drag. "Get used to it." He blew off the smoke while leaning lazily along the cement wall.

"I really don't understand why you do that." The boy turned to him curiously. "Why do you dress in such damn sexy clothes and then expect me to leave you alone?"

After a glance at his usual wardrobe he smirked, "What? Does this turn you on?" He shook his hips lightly, watching the irritation creep up the other's face.

A possessive snarl followed as he pulled the blonde to him tightly, "Edo, I suggest you don't screw with me like that." He leaned closer, breath easily felt on the shorter one's face. "You could get hurt from those actions."

A sly grin cracked his mouth, "I thought that's what you wanted? For me to _screw_ with you."

The other laughed hungrily and shoved him back away, "Well Chibi, aren't you just a bundle of seductiveness."

"You know it."

Flicking the ashes off, the blonde fished in his pocket, acquiring a second stick and chucked it to his companion.

The teen eagerly dove for a lighter to top it, "Where did you get so loaded? Last time you tried to pass yourself off to buy some, wasn't there _some_ problem?" He trailed off knowingly and ignored the glare being sent his way. "Oh _yes_, I remember! The store clerk thought you were a sweet little girl, wandering in a bad part of town." He snickered at the violent punch sent his way, sidestepping it vaguely.

"Envy, you're such a bastard."

Roughly, his elastic was pulled out from the end of his hair, the entire thing unravelling in one swift motion. "But, he did have a point. You look much better with your hair down."

The boy blushed, "Shut up. And besides, I got them from Havoc."

"You mean that lazy-ass policeman? He gave you those?"

"Well, yeah. The guy's always got one hanging from the corner of his mouth. I'm surprised he doesn't glue them there. So he can't _really _tell kids not to do the same without being a hypocrite"

Tiredly, the teenager sighed. "Well Chibi, what time is it?"

"Hell if I know. My damn watch broke this morning. I don't know why it won't work."

He yawned loudly and grinned, "It doesn't really matter. I just wanted to know how much time there's left."

The blonde turned to him suspiciously. "Time for what?"

"You know that shack you work for?"

"Meaning the shack with the high-tech and expensive electronic equipment? Sure I do."

"Got any keys for the doors?"

Crudely he grimaced in annoyance, "Envy, _every_ employee has to be able to get _in_ the building _and_ the supply room. Maybe if you didn't get fired from every job, you'd actually know that."

"Hmm… I've been thinking-"

"First time for everything," the other whispered.

"What is this; make fun of the aberrant antisocial human today? Fuck Edo, give me a break. Anyway, some friends of mine are in need of some of that… equipment. And we would really appreciate your help on the matter. Far as I know, no one is working there tonight. It'll be a peaceful steal."

He reprimanded himself quietly for not foreseeing such a criminal plot. Granted, he had helped such plans proceed before, but none so strange. "Envy, they do have security cameras you know. Even if no one is there, they're not just gonna let someone walk in and take out their goods."

"Psh. A little spray paint, a few bats or bars. Nothing we can't handle. 'Sides, you know where they all are, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Excellent. We're gonna put this in the works tonight, and if all goes well, be a few thousand dollars richer."

"Envy," he scolded lightly.

"Come on, what do you say, _Pride_?"

"Fine. As long as no one gets hurt."

I heard myself saying those hateful words and shot up, nearly out of the bed entirely. My breaths came irregularly in wheezy gasps while I fought to gain some control of my heart rate.

Of all the fucking things to dream of, I just had to pick that.

If only I had said _'no'_. Done it right then and there.

If _only_.

* * *

I was far too restless now, and chose to saunter out in the morning sun. Usually I would hate such bright, happy, cheerful mornings, with birds chirping musically up in the trees. Yet, it seemed a plausible relief from my torturous thoughts and dreams. I guess it was so nice out from the weather the previous night.

I _am_ a responsible person. Surely I would have left Al a note to say where it was I was going. But not today. Nope. I used to have a cell phone, and I would have taken it, were it not broken into a thousand shards.

Honestly, clapping hands and fixing it looked to be a big break from paying for a new one.

My wanderings strangely led me to the shop I had visited a few days ago, and I found I was leaning to the door. Foolishly I tried to make myself believe that I only came here to buy a pop. Yeah, I was just thirsty. Nothing more than that.

I poked my head into the door only to find that the one I was (secretly) searching for was not there. In his place a pissed off blonde stood, fingers curling dangerously around the phone cord. Unnoticed I slipped in, sifting through the aisles for something to drink.

She sighed, "I'm telling you Hughes, he's really in no condition to be working today. What do you mean it's surprising to hear me say that? I am _not_ some slave driver."

Tentatively, I slowed my pace and was currently eavesdropping more than I would have liked to admit. Something about what she said perked up my attention.

"He was out all night in that rainstorm, again. I went to his house to check up on him, sick as a dog."

I nearly halted completely, forgetting the ice cold bottle still grasped in my hand.

"And I can't cover for him for much longer."

Twitching in irritation the woman switched hands, phone now in the left, and began digging through papers stacked in a drawer. "It says here on Maple Street. You know that old blue one he used to drive by?"

A click flickered in my mind and I headed to the counter. I was not really sure if my hunch was correct, but I had time to kill anyway.

She distractedly scanned the product and took my money, paying no heed that she owed me some change.

Well, what did I care? I was not about to fuss over a nickel.

I left, opening the fizzy container and taking a long drink.

Maple Street, that was all the way on the other side of town.

For that bastard's sake, I'd _better_ be right.

* * *

I pounded on the door harshly, expecting his face to appear, asking me what I was doing there.

Nothing.

Well, maybe he was in the shower or asleep. There were _plenty_ of possibilities. And I could wait.

After five minutes of standing on the bastard's porch with no reply I (savagely) pressed the doorbell. Amusedly, I dared him not to answer, I was pissed off in the heat as it was, if he gave me more reason there would be hell to pay.

Still nothing.

I quickly lost all control, urging to bellow for him to get the hell out here! If I could, I'd box his ears.

Eyes wide with rage, I raised my fist again, prepared to beat the living shit out of his door, or break the damn thing down. Whatever occurred first. (Forgetting momentarily that I didn't even _know_ if this was his house.)

However, my swing halted midair as I was met with his haggard looking face peeking through the thin crack of the door.

He blinked groggily, "Edward?"

When no answer, despite a nod, came from me he opened the door further, and _god_ did he look horrible.

If sickness could manifest in human form, Mustang would definitely be the perfect replication for cosplay. Circles nearly as dark as his irises lay beneath his eyes drearily above his hollowly pale cheekbones. But his eyes appeared fever glazed, and honestly, I wasn't surprised.

"What are you doing here?" He asked brokenly. "Wait… How do _you_ even know where I live?"

I shrugged, thinking that he may not be in the best shape to guess at my charade games.

He nodded numbly and gestured me in, "Don't mind the mess. I haven't had a chance to unpack."

Nervously, I glanced around his -huge- house. If I were to clean my room twice, under Al's persistent nagging, it would not even be anywhere near as clean as this. Apparently Mustang here was a neat freak. One of those insane people that envisioned a mess that was not really there, and insisted on cleaning their houses at freakish hours in the night.

My sight however lingered on his shoe rack as I placed my boots there. His lay upturned, covered in mud and grass. Was he really out last night in that kind of weather?

I put a hand to his shoulder and pointed to the boots.

"Oh, those. I was just out walking after I saw you."

He stumbled into what I thought was the kitchen.

But I saw. A wary glance out of the corner of his eye, to see if I looked suspicious to his explanation, which I sure as hell was.

I bent down and inspected them further, and found the oddest thing.

_Baby's breath. _Tiny clumps of white flowers were clustered in with fresh grass and a few twigs. That flower was only grown in one place in our town. It was kind of the local flower, reserved _only_ for that place.

I glanced worriedly at the area he went to.

Did he think I was stupid, that I wouldn't figure it out?

Then again, he could be half delirious for all I knew.

I faintly heard him call my name and followed the voice. No need to have him aware of my snooping.

"Would you like something to drink?"

I nodded, since my pop was long gone.

"I'm afraid all I have is tea. Haven't had much of a chance to buy anything else."

Curiously, my head titled sideways. The guy worked at a grocery department, and had _no_ time?

Must have a busy life outside work.

He set the water to boil and sat with me at the table.

"So, why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate the company." He smiled at my faint blush.

I put my finger down on the table, drew diagonally to the lower right and then to the upper.

"Check?"

I nodded and pointed to the ceiling.

"Up?"

It would have been faster to get some paper and literally spell it out for him, but I was (strangely) enjoying this guessing game, and he seemed to be too.

I placed one fist on the table and the other atop it.

"… Um, On?"

I grinned and pointed to him.

"Me? Check up on me?"

Widely, I felt glad for his success. It was bloody _amazing_ how he picked up what I was doing. It took me months to train Al to do half of what he just did.

"Why, that is just so sweet."

To my annoyance, I became embarrassed again, brightening from the neck up.

But something still logged in the back of my brain, which I made sure not to forget.

Baby's Breath was found _only_ at our cemetery.

I should know, I used to visit there everyday. There were hundreds of dead buried on those ground, and it was nearly impossible to find who you were looking for.

I looked to his grinning face.

What the _hell_ had he been doing?

* * *

_AN: Another chapter! I know, some were commenting on the lack of angst and adventure. But, you have to realize that now mini angst missiles are bombing this story in the early chapters, and when I drop the angst atomic bomb later, you people are going to wish I didn't._

_Thank you to all reviewers, and don't hesitate to leave comments behind. _


	6. Our Faith

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Faith-**_

I embody you.

You hissed at me to draw my gun as you did the same. I couldn't really understand what was going on at the time, so I merely complied and waited to see what would happen later. I now know just how much my impulsiveness affected my decisions, whether made coherently or not. I was a hot head, I realize that now. I wish I _could_ have understood back then.

The shot came from the darkened squad positioned in the corner; it pierced the silence like a bullet _should_. I'd never heard a real gunshot before though, and so I was nearly fascinated that such a small fragment of metal could fly at such an amazing speed.

I knew it was headed for me. My brain _knew _that. But my body wasn't receiving that message to move. I just stood there gazing at the upcoming object that would kill me. Life passed by me in slow motion, just as people said it did.

Yet, the hit never came.

Instead, a body leaped desperately in front of mine, knocking me out of harm's way and violently shoving me to the cold pavement.

I gasped from the pain of skid marks all down my right side, bleeding profusely. Vaguely, I wondered what it was that hit me.

When I looked over to see, my own pain and injuries paled in comparison. There lay my Mother, dying next to me.

Brokenly, I shuffled over, took her head to my lap, dismissing the gun in my hand. She stared up to me in a mock horror and smiled.

That sight has haunted me ever since.

I heard the gut wrenching bawl from my Father, who had just arrived at the scene.

I could only gaze at him with shock. Through some scattered flames and dust, I knew what I must have looked like then to him.

He hated me after that.

It was what you wanted though.

Science always had been my major in school, and I had adopted terms from those classes for everyday use.

You were a catalyst, sent to speed up and cause such a reaction to take place, and I bet it must have felt amazing. To know that you had accomplished so much, to be a master manipulator to the highest degree, I cannot even imagine.

Most people dread death at an early age. They fear it as children and want to live forever, to never die.

But as a teenager, I thought I was _invincible_, I never even chose to consider that I would die eventually.

I may not have perished physically. Mentally however, was a whole different ball park.

I know that now.

My spirit died that day, the very embodiment which holds a soul to the body.

One thing bothers me Envy; did you want to make me a soulless creature like you?

Am I _still_ a human?

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?"

I growled menacingly to him, hoping he would graciously catch onto the idea and back off of the subject.

"It looks like someone beat the crap out of you."

It did _not_. I only had a slightly broken arm. And a black eye, and a few bruises, and scrapes on my hands, and some of my ribs were bruised…

Really, it wasn't _that_ bad, and I was _fine_.

This was light damage compared to what I am usually used to.

Al always acted just like Mustang was now, blowing everything out of proportion and into a whole other spectrum of angst. They made a _big_ deal out of nothing.

I shook my head, twitching slightly as the bandages on my chest rubbed roughly onto my skin. Any sudden movements had to be avoided so they didn't creak together as a firecracker would when ignescent.

Alright, maybe it _was_ worse than I'd made it out to be.

"You should sue whoever did that to you. I'd never thought you would be a scrapper."

I disregarded his incessant babbling shortly after that, and focused on my main task at hand of getting him into his bed without further complications.

After struggling with him for the past fifteen minutes, I grew a sudden respect for the nurses I saw attending people daily. Especially ones who dealt with patients such as Mustang.

The man was impossible!

First, as I was trying to guide him through the doorway to his room using only one arm and the preferred area of my injured chest, he crushed my foot with his clodhopping idiocy.

The butterfingers couldn't even flick on the light switch when we did get in. I mean, I realize that he's sick, but it doesn't mean that he had to be so impaired, as if he'd been drinking.

And for some unknown reason to god, the man _had_ to wear jeans and a button up shirt when at home sick. Possibly he just never bothered to change from last night, and I recognized and considered that fact. But that would mean he slept in wet clothes.

This led me to the reason why the bastard was sick in the first place.

How inane _could_ he be?

It was bloody hard to undress a man in such a wardrobe. Not that I was planning any dirty late night activities or anything, particularly not at three in the afternoon.

Realistically, it would be entertaining to take advantage of somebody who could not protest. And if I were a slut who wasn't afraid to do so, and risk getting whatever he had, I sure as hell would have done it.

I commanded him to enter the bed, even though he was reluctant to do so. This did seem curious…

Whenever I got sick and Al took care of me, _all_ I wanted to do was sleep like the dead and not be awake for any of my sickness trials.

Disapprovingly, I frowned at him when he made a move to get up again, pushed his chest back down and glared at his protest.

He huffed momentarily, but then changed demeanour completely.

Hesitantly and to my shock with some fear seeping through his eyes, he glanced up to me and grabbed my hand.

I peered back down at him questioningly. He was acting really weird. Could it be the fever?

Wisely I made no move to force my hand away, and did not grasp his back either.

He seemed to notice this. "W-Would you… Do you think you could… stay?" His voice shook pathetically.

Hopeful eyes awaited my answer eagerly.

And I honestly had no idea what to do.

So, I nodded.

* * *

"Hello?"

I paled slightly at Al's worried voice, and knew that it was probably my fault that he was stressed. It was a rare day in which I would leave without telling him.

"Brother?"

_Tap._

Once again, another thing in our lives that had changed: phone conversations.

"Thank _god_, I was beginning to wonder where you were. Well, um… are you okay?"

_Tap._

Only _'yes' _and _'no' _questions were allowed. So Al had to carefully phrase what he was asking so that I could _tap_ into the phone an answer.

"Are you going to come back soon?"

_Tap tap._

"No? Well then, when are you- I mean… Are you staying overnight wherever you are?"

_Tap._

"Alright Brother, just be careful. And please don't do that again! Do you have any idea how worried I have been?"

I rolled my eyes dramatically and sighed.

_Tap._

"You'd better not be doing anything bad either. Wait a minute; are you at someone's house?"

A hesitant _tap_ followed.

"Whose? You're not sleeping around, are you?"

I slammed the phone down before he had a chance to protest or I had the opportunity to hurl.

Honestly, me sleeping with Mustang? What a _ludicrous_ thought.

* * *

Though I was tired from the lack of sleep I had gotten last night, I wasn't prepared to take a nap quite yet.

Therefore, I went exploring.

Mustang was correct in one thing, there really was nothing unpacked. Only a couch, coffee table, kitchen table and his bed decorated the house for furniture. There was no TV. set up or anything electronic of the sort. I guess I should have been happy that his phone was hooked up.

And did I mention that there also was nothing to eat?

Personally, I love instant noodles. Yet looking at his vast stash of said product I wondered _how_ he could eat them every single day and _not_ get sick of it.

The couch I sat on was unbelievably hard, like freaking concrete! It was damn near impossible to get even close to comfortable on it, no matter how I shifted my position to different angles.

Currently my head hung over the edge and I was absently starring at the wall ahead of me. And under the table I saw something very interesting.

Upon further inspection, I found to be a photograph and a bottle of scotch.

I grumbled at the alcohol (and the half full glass beside it) grudgingly. I guess the bastard was busy drowning his sorrows in amber liquid before I arrived.

But the picture was a whole other story.

It was of him in a police uniform.

I remembered his talking of being one; however, seeing the actual evidence in front of me was much more alarming.

Especially because I saw people I already knew with him in it.

Like the woman that had been at the store, tending his business, and Havoc. A few others, five I think, were unfamiliar to me, but the scrawl on the backside caught my breath.

'_Roy, don't dwell on the past.'_

Someone signed the reminder with _'Hughes'_, a name I recalled hearing before.

As I walked back to his room quietly, I think the note triggered something within the depths of my mind.

'_Don't dwell on the past Chibi. Things that you can't change happen, and there's nothing you can do about it.'_

Sure, I though that same thing about Envy each and _every_ day.

He turned to face me in his sleep when I slowly sat on the bed. I remember yawning and leaning back against the headboard. I was just going to rest my eyes a bit, get rid of the burning that had enflamed near the corners.

But I told myself that in my last moments awake, that I didn't feel weak arms carefully wrap around me.

And I most certainly did _not_ feel the kiss placed to my cheek.

'I was in an area of darkness, everything pitch black.

A voice echoed into my thoughts.

'_You're a traitor.'_

I spun around, searching for the one who dared accuse me of such an act. Only to be faced with the one I couldn't challenge like that.

"Alphonse?"

'_Why are you betraying her?'_

"What do mean?"

My brother sighed and lifted his hand; a gun suddenly became visible in my sights.

'_How could you betray her even more after what you have already done?'_

In horror, I turned to him, knowing who he was talking about.

"You told me that you didn't blame me about it."

'_I don't, but she does.'_

My eyes snapped shut; I could not look at the blood covered face of Mom as she stared past me.

'_She hates you for betraying her again.'_

The horrid cry that fought to lurch from my throat came as more of a jumbled moan.

I knew tears were running steadily down my face, but I refused to open my eyes, for fear that she may still be there, gazing at me with _dead_ eyes.

Instead, I felt the weights around me _tighten_.

* * *

_AN: Thank you to all of you wonderful reviewers! I could never have reached this point without your support._

_Some questions came up about what was going on with Roy, but be aware that his story may be revealed in a few more chapters._

_And as for the queries of Ed's condition: this is Edward we're talking about. How many times has he said that he was perfectly fine when his side was slashed through? I hope this chapter, with someone other than Al to question him on it, helped clear up why he didn't go into detail on it. Besides, he is a male, and what guy, when telling a story, wants to emphasize how they were beaten by someone else?_

_But please leave some more constructive criticism or comments!_


	7. Our Enlightenment

** VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Enlightenment-**_

I awoke with an immensely pounding headache, reverberating through my ears, past my eyes and deep inside of my temples. To say it hurt like hell would be a serious understatement.

Shifting awkwardly, I leaned over the edge of my bed and blinked my eyes, trying to get a clearer vision of my hardwood floor.

When I rolled back, I was met with a sight that nearly made my head spin more.

Lying next to me, curled up against my side was Edward.

I pinched my forearm harshly, hoping to come out of this outrageous scenario, and to convince myself that I was _not_ enjoying his fists clenched in the soft fabric of my pyjama shirt.

_I wasn't waking up._

Then something struck me. I was in pyjamas, yet I could not recall changing clothes the night before. And I vaguely remembered him coming here.

A heated blush spread over my features as I realized that he must have undressed me.

_Talk about embarrassing…_

I stretched, peeling him off me at the same time, preparing to go and acquire some heavenly coffee. Hopefully if I made it strong enough I could get rid of the last vestiges of my cold and ward off my headache.

A glance at my watch on the nightstand read 2:00 A.M. and I nearly growled in annoyance. Why in God's name did I have to wake up now? There was no way I could go back to sleep.

But, nevertheless, I made and drank my drink and did it _ever_ help.

However, sitting on the foot of the bed, coffee gone, guest asleep where I slept (it still made me queasy in a surprisingly good way), what was I supposed to do in the chill of the night?

None of my many books had been unpacked, and I wasn't very eager to begin digging through random boxes that I had not had the sense to label.

There was one, though, that did catch my eye.

It was nearly falling out of Ed's pocket in his khaki and cargo made pants.

With care I slid it out completely, pulling my hand back rapidly when he nearly flopped onto it.

There were no words on the front or back covers, only faded brown leather, as if it were taken everywhere and looked at often. A string held the covers and pages together in a small bow and I found myself slowly pulling it loose.

I opened the book with a slight hesitation, knowing that I was invading his privacy, but the curiosity overwhelmed me.

It was a journal.

I got the brief tickle in my stomach, telling me to just _close _it now and that I didn't _want_ to see what was inside.

I disregarded it.

'_Stupid woman says I should write in here, that it'll help what I'm going through. Yeah right. Reliving the experience is **really** going to help me get over it. Then again, it was either this or go to court. So I'll just have to hurry this up. She said to start at the beginning…_

_I met you when I was still at school, you were in your senior year and I a couple behind._

_My first instincts pegged you off as a bad egg, too bad I didn't listen._

_You followed me home one night, and I chose that particular time to take a shortcut through the park._

_I've never felt so helpless._

_After that, you claimed me as yours._

_I think you only wanted me for what you saw._

_But…_

_Envy, did you know that, miraculously, I loved you?_

_After your little pleasure escapade at my expense, I changed completely. All of my innocence turned to arrogance and selfishness. I was cruel, cold, unfeeling, and just like you._

_I think I did it to protect myself, from you especially, but my plan backfired. Originally, I thought you only lusted after me for my defiant nature and because I refused to give you the time of day. _

_I was wrong._

_You loved my new 'self' even more than what I used to be. Maybe what you wanted was not to break me, but to morph my being completely into something you desired._

_At first no one, not even my parents noticed. Al, though, knew me better than anybody, possibly even more than I did, and he saw. He cried when I pushed him away without telling him that you were watching my every move and that you may kill him. I shoved everything away from myself in order to protect it. However, people mistook it for a belief that I thought myself to be better than them._

_Al would pound on my door, asking what he did wrong and why I hated him._

_I would silently sob on the other side and hate you more for what you had done._

_Then again, you always were a sick bastard, Envy._

_You started to call me _Pride

"_Come on, what do you say, Pride?"_

"_Fine. As long as no one gets hurt."_

_You suggested we should rob the place where I was employed, that it would be a peaceful steal. You were brilliant._

_My Mom called me on my cell, asking why I hadn't come home yet and if I was alright. I guess the shouting and swearing directed at me from my side of the line made her worry more. And when you smashed my phone onto the ground, shattering it into a thousand pieces, she panicked and did the unthinkable._

_She came to help me._

_You must have known that she would come looking for me after that phone call. There's no way that you didn't plan for it to happen that way. You knew that someone would die that night, but I never imagined it would be her._

_You hissed at me to draw my gun as you did the same. I couldn't really understand what was going on at the time, so I merely complied and waited to see what would happen later. I now know just how much my impulsiveness affected my decisions, whether made coherently or not. I was a hot head, I realize that now. I wish I could have understood back then._

_The shot came from the darkened squad positioned in the corner; it pierced the silence like a bullet should. I'd never heard a real gunshot before though, and so I was nearly fascinated that such a small fragment of metal could fly at such an amazing speed._

_I knew it was headed for me. My brain knew that. But my body wasn't receiving that message to move. I just stood there gazing at the upcoming object that would kill me. Life passed by me in slow motion, just as people said it did._

_Yet, the hit never came._

_Instead, a body leaped desperately in front of mine, knocking me out of harm's way and violently shoving me to the cold pavement._

_I gasped from the pain of skid marks all down my right side, bleeding profusely. Vaguely, I wondered what it was that hit me._

_When I looked over to see, my own pain and injuries paled in comparison. There lay my Mother, dying next to me._

_Brokenly, I shuffled over, took her head to my lap, dismissing the gun in my hand. She stared up to me in a mock horror and smiled._

_That sight has haunted me ever since._

_I heard the gut wrenching bawl from my Father, who had just arrived at the scene._

_I could only gaze at him with shock. Through some scattered flames and dust, I knew what I must have looked like then to him._

_He hated me after that._

_It was what you wanted though._

_If it wasn't for you she never would have found out about my secret life and died, and he wouldn't afflict me everyday. At least, that is what I'd prefer to believe. But I know better, he reminds me everyday. That it's my fault._

_I know they were the ones to fire first, I'll never forget that dark, tall figure plummeting a bullet into her chest. I never even saw his face through my delusional state and screaming._

_Is that why you ran and left me alone at a crime scene?_

_**I loathe you.**_

_You never loved me, just used me for the pleasure. It was always like that._

_**I blame you.**_

_Referring back to it now, I understand, they were right and I was the one that was wrong._

_**I enthral you.**_

_I should not have followed you._

_**I beseech you.**_

_No matter what you said -promised me- you were just lying to my face._

_**I hate you.** _

_It was always like that.'_

Gasping harshly I fought to get control over my ragged breathing, trying not to hyperventilate.

There was simply _no_ way.

The book fell from my frozen finger tips and in denial I ran out of the room.

Not even bothering to put on shoes of some sort, I dashed into the cool summer rain falling from the sky and bolted down the street.

This _had_ to be some sick joke.

I came to tall metal gates, ones that I had visited just a few nights before. Scaling them fiercely, I dropped to the ground in a heap, picked myself up and continued my eager pace.

'_Dumont… Dyle… Edmonds… Egeryl…'_

Elric.

My heart stopped as I fell to my knees at the headstone of _Trisha Elric._

"This can't be happening…"

'_We received a rushed call from someone who had dialled 9-1-1 and was reporting a robbery taking place. Hawkeye had been the one to answer, and she told me later that it seemed suspicious. The caller would not identify his location, and we never even saw his face for questioning afterwards._

_But, a hot tip like that is never ignored in our field of work._

_The robbers were said to be stationed at an electronics store on the east side of town. My squad and I set out, fully armed and prepared._

_Sure enough, there was a whole group of guys loading goods into a van and two who were singled out._

_When the other minions turned tail and ran, we chose to corner the other two and (hopefully) bring them down peacefully._

_I remember hearing a hiss of one telling the other to _'draw it.'

_I had no time to contemplate what 'it' was before the guy next to me shouted that they both had guns. He grabbed my arm, and in the darkness I couldn't see who had suddenly touched me, and my gun went off._

_One of the kids, to where the bullet was heading, just stood there like a deer caught in the headlights. I only saw his outline and terrified golden eyes._

_Suddenly, some woman jumped in front of the kid and took the shot._

_After that, my mind was so fuzzy, I couldn't even think straight._

_He called _'Mom!' _over and over again, and as the rest of my team tried to organize the small crowd that was gathering, my feet remained planted into the cement. As if I was grounded there._

_A broken call of _'Trisha!' _ran and a man, presumably her husband, stumbled in past the officers and to her dying side._

_I had left that night, resigned from the force, despite my best friend's protests. Hughes told me that it wasn't my fault, and that it had been an accidental fire, nothing more._

_But, those broken cries of a child crying for his dead mother haunted me endlessly._

_So I left town, never to return until two years later._

_Through much therapy and sessions, I had come to the conclusion that if I ever wanted to get over that ordeal in my life, I had to come back and give my condolences to the ones I had hurt.'_

Yet, now, I found it difficult to merely breathe.

My hands clenched on the wet slippery grass at the grave and I roughly whispered, "I killed her."

Unbeknownst to me, a golden eyed boy shivered from the sudden lack of warmth, unconsciously wondering _where_ it had gone.

* * *

_AN: _o.O

_Comments?_

_(For those curious souls, this was the very first chapter I thought out for this story, so this was planned to happen from the very beginning.)_


	8. Our Sense

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Sense-**_

I was cold.

Only that feeling managed to make its way through to my mind. But I had been warm before, maybe I kicked the blankets off again. Or perhaps my shirt was pulled up and stomach exposed per usual.

Al's bed was always heavenly warm, so I unconsciously decided I would get up, crawl into his and suck the heat from him. What else were big brothers' for?

My hand gripped into the sheets to give leverage. And it was then that it registered that the sheets were silky, not rough and scratchy like mine. _Odd…_

I opened my eyes. And became slightly panicked.

Screw being in my own bed, I wasn't even in my room, let _alone_ my house!

Then I saw some jeans and a shirt discarded carelessly onto the floor and my memory faded back to me.

I was in Mustang's house.

Well that was fine and dandy, but where was the bastard himself?

A coffee cup lay on the nightstand, with some droplets inside still wet, so I knew he couldn't have been gone long.

Fully prepared to search the house for his elusive ass, I got up creakingly and stepped on something quite awkward.

It was hard, and felt as the spine of a book did. This really, was absurd.

I thought that until I looked and spotted my journal beneath my foot. Thinking little of it, I scooped it up, hypothesizing that it had fallen out of my pocket while I was sleeping and dropped to the floor.

But upon closer inspection, I discovered the ribbon that usually held it closed was undone.

_What the hell?_

Peering into this new dilemma so diligently, I nearly had an aneurism when the cordless phone beside me rang harshly, startling me out of my thoughts.

As it rang, I pondered whether I should answer it. What if it was for Mustang? It wasn't like I could politely play the role of secretary and ask them to call back later.

However, seven rings later, I went against myself and answered.

"Edward, is that you?"

_Mustang? _Well, at least now I knew where the bastard was: somewhere other than his house.

"I can hear breathing, so it must be you. Listen, I'm sorry for running out on you like that. I had some things to check up on."

Considering it was only 10:00 in the morning, I really wondered just where it was he had to go. As if he could hear my disbelief to his explanation, he sighed defeated.

"All right. I went out and ended up getting myself drunk and am now terribly hung-over."

I felt the sudden urge to screech into the communication device on how much of an idiot he was. _Honestly! _Getting sick one night, and drunk the next.

"And, I found something out. Something I should have realized a while ago."

Heatedly, I have to admit that he sparked my interest with such vagueness.

"I read your journal."

Scratch that. I now felt the urge to _kill_ him instead. Hadn't the guy ever heard of personal space and property?

"I know it was wrong of me to…"

Brilliant deduction_, genius_.

"… But I think I'm glad that I did. Remember you wrote of a dark, tall figure plummeting a bullet into your Mother's chest?"

How could he ask such a question? There was no way in hell's grace I could ever forget about that. Yet, why was he bringing it up?

"I know who it was."

To say that I peacefully and calmly accepted the situation with grace and poise would have been a blatant lie. In reality, I'd never felt so driven to hear the answer to a question.

"It was me."

In my delusion of thinking I heard wrong and wanting so badly to command him to tell me that he was wrong, lying, joking- _something!_

But I heard only a dial tone.

I fell down off the bed and to my knees, holding myself up in a detached way with my trembling arms.

He _had_ to be lying.

And besides, he said that he'd been drunk and was hung-over, so maybe he didn't know what he was saying. There was always that possibility.

I had a brief flash of shocked blue eyes staring into mine over flames and dust, a gun in both of our hands.

Suddenly, I wasn't so confident on what I thought anymore.

* * *

I am not sure when it was that I picked myself off of the floor and left his house, definitely over an hour though.

And don't have the slightest clue where it was that I was headed.

I pretty much just wandered down the street brokenly, occasionally stumbling and stubbing my toe on a rock. Oh, I'd _also _been intelligent enough to forget my shoes.

This was known to me a while ago, but I was far enough away that I really did not care as much as I should have.

All this time, all these years I spent mourning over what had happened, thinking that if I had only done this, or had just said that, my Mom would be with us today.

And after hearing Mustang's blunt confession I couldn't justify my suffering over that time. Not only mine, but Al's too.

I paid little attention when a man appeared over the hill on the street, running behind me and calling for someone to _'stop'_.

It wasn't as though I cared anyway. He was probably talking to someone else. Even though we were the only two on this block, minus a terrier sleeping on an old house's porch steps.

I continued my slow, dragging pace, not bothering to slow down or speed up. If the guy really wanted my autograph, he could wait in line. I was busy trying to sort out my life.

Admittedly, I snarled warningly when his hand came to rest on my shoulder.

How he had caught up to me so quickly, I was unsure.

"Geeze, kid. Are you deaf or something? I've been calling you to _'wait' _over and over."

The man, dark short hair and glasses, panted excruciatingly while leaving his hand on me, as if taking it for support.

Really, if an old man was planning to dash wildly through the streets, he should take his age into consideration. (I ignored that he looked Mustang's age.)

"I wanted to know if your name's Edward Elric."

I turned to face him curiously, wondering if I knew him from somewhere.

"You are? Great! I've been lookin' around town for you for over an hour. I mean, I thought you'd be near Roy's house but I didn't think you'd get so far so quickly-"

His rambling abruptly tuned off in my ears after those few words.

He smiled sheepishly at me, "Say, how would you like something to drink?"

* * *

I sipped my strawberry milkshake semi-happily. Apparently, sugar really was the cure to all ailments, something on which would remind Al of later.

The man paid for my treat and cupped his hand around his steaming cappuccino. He seemed to have purchased it more for a stress relief than for thirst, taking into consideration the blistering heat outside.

He smiled at my obvious delight to the substance before coughing to get my attention back on the matter at hand.

"You probably don't know me, but my name is Maes Hughes."

_Hughes. _The guy that wrote on the back of Mustang's picture?

"See, Roy came stumbling into my house this morning, drunk as all hell, mumbling about killing someone. And eventually I got out enough information from him about you and what happened." Hughes sighed and pulled off his glasses, rubbing them softly on the fabric of his shirt.

"I heard him talking on my phone to someone, and I figured it had to be you. Then he left, just like that. And I imagine he told you something to make him leave, so I hunted you down."

I blinked slowly. He made himself sound like a stalker.

"I was on the force with Roy a few years back, and I know what happened with that robbery. Granted, I wasn't there, but I heard enough from those that were." Placing his spectacles back on, he took a long drink, drowning half of his cup. "And knowing Roy like I do, I imagine when he found out that was you from before he planned to disappear again and never speak to you."

Halting in my pleasurable drink, I stared at him long and hard. What he had just said was the _exact_ thing _I_ had been planning to do. I mean, I didn't blame Mustang for what happened. _But…_

Upon the look that had to have been on my face, he grimaced. "I see. Apparently, you two think alike."

I flinched slightly when he placed his hand over mine in a comforting gesture, "I just want you to know that Roy doesn't always explain things in the best way. He prefers to take all the blame for himself and shed little light on the actual situation."

Where have I heard that _same_ description before?

"It was an honest accident, kid. And I know that doesn't make it right. Really, I do. But if we hadn't gotten that tip off, they never would have gone, and no one would have died."

I tilted my head, wondering what he was talking about. I'd always assumed that my Mom had called the police before she came, just for some sort of a back up. But, he made it sound as though it was someone else entirely. Had it been her, wouldn't they have known?

He looked a little surprised at my action, "You mean you weren't aware?"

I shook my head.

"Some suspicious caller phoned in telling us of a robbery taking place. The odd thing that we never found out who the guy was."

My mind suddenly slowed. _He? _The one who called was a man?

I felt very sick.

"_Envy, where are you going?"_

"_Just hang on Chibi. I've got a call to make, won't be long. Just make sure those idiots don't damage anything they're loading and I'll be back in a minute." Envy trotted away to what I though was a payphone._

Correction, make that _horribly_ sick.

Hughes leaned towards me, a concerned look plastered on his face, "Hey, you alright? You're kind of pale…"

No. I most certainly _was not _alright.

Knowing that no sound would come out, but for once not caring, I mouthed the word _'where?'_

He seemed pleased and answered, "At the park."

* * *

When the sight of a field of grass and tress met me I nearly cried in delight.

How could I have been _so_ stupid?

I blamed myself all that time, and apparently, Mustang did the very same thing. When really, the fault should have fallen on neither of us.

I vowed that if I was ever to see that fuck Envy again, I would _rip_ his eyes out.

If it weren't for him, I would have a living Mother. If it weren't for him, my brother and I wouldn't have to be scared of the face of our Father. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be a fucking _mute!_

My anger boiled away as I saw Mustang, swinging slowly on the swing _I_ had sat on from our previous visit here.

I walked up behind him quietly and stood, taking note of his slumped form.

Grinning despite his depression I reached my hands out and pushed him.

The swing swung quite far for my small declaration of being so close to he, who was much larger and heavier than I.

His head craned back in surprise, and seemed to be trying to say something as he dug his feet into the dirt.

To prevent strained muscles in his neck, I came around to in front of him and stared at his shocked face.

"What are you doing here?" At least he was getting _some_ bearings on what was happening.

But, rather than try to answer, I did something I had not done to anyone else with such sincere meaning, _not_ even to Al.

I placed my finger at my lips and touched his chest, just left of his heart.

If it weren't for Envy, this man I before me would not be so _lost._

He looked quite baffled by the gesture, so I settled to wrapping my arms around him to get the message across better.

And paid no mind of _him_ returning the gesture shakily.

* * *

Mustang graciously walked me home, though I repeatedly signalled to him that I didn't need a babysitter, which he seemed to find very amusing. And proceeded to say that I was short enough to be mistaken for a child in need of one. As I said the first day I met him: a bastard.

He followed me up to our front door to my curiosity.

I didn't fully understand until he pulled me into a kiss.

Not a chaste one on the forehead or cheek like before. _Oh no…_

A full fledged tongue battling kiss that left my head _spinning_.

And I was so happy to think that the moment had been so different from what Envy and I had shared.

There was a large difference between lust and some _other_ emotion. In which I wasn't quite ready to consider yet.

Breaking apart from him, and sorely missing the contact, I entered my house and left a small wave to him, passing by Al in the process.

I entered the kitchen and stole one of Al's green mints before heading to the living room.

As I walked past the door again, I discreetly listened to what they were talking about.

"_What does… this mean?"_

"_Did Brother do that to you?"_

"_Yes, he did."_

"_Well, he does that to show he's sorry."_

When the door closed and Mustang left I paid no heed to it, and was prepared to watch some television. After that passionate little display on our porch, I can honestly say that my prodigy brain wasn't aware enough to do something that required _real _thinking.

So I settled to turning the corner to the mindless device.

And now that I think about it, I _barely_ even felt the fist collide with the side of my face.

* * *

_AN: . REVIEWS! Thank you to all of you wonderful people for last chapter. Because of your diligent loyalty, I have presented you with an update twice as fast as I normally would have done._

_With this in mind, I hope it was good enough to follow the last, and would like your opinions. _


	9. Our Doppelgangers

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Doppelgangers-**_

I left surprisingly happy, more content than I had been in years.

I dare say it was a pleasant feeling.

And yet, so strange. After throwing myself into so many pointless relationships once I left town, there was not a single one that I cared for as much as I did _him_.

Nearly all of the girls I had dated on a one night stand talked constantly. Rambling on with completely meaningless conversations and it seemed so dull, fake and depressing.

Then here was Ed, one who quite literally could do none of that, and he held my attention so much more. That's not to say I _didn't _wish that he could say something to me. But, he was so full of life and expression that it made me wonder what he would have been like if he could have talked.

Once I thought on that, I realized.

In my memories of my first night meeting him, amidst the blood, flames and sirens, he had been the one I heard screaming. He was apologizing to the dead repeatedly. That meant he _could_ speak then.

And, that night was a mere of couple years ago.

Being in the profession of an officer, I had heard and seen many stories of children especially becoming mutes through trauma.

Just like the girl Nina, a daughter of one of my colleagues, who's house blew up in flames with her and the mother still inside. She was rescued. However, the one who gave her life perished, and she ceased to talk.

Events similar to that were not uncommon.

Watching a mother die before your eyes, it was the same scenario was it not?

I suddenly wondered if that was _why_ Edward was silent.

And prayed to god that I was _wrong_.

* * *

It was nearly six when I first noticed my bout of hunger.

Granted, I could have opened a cupboard, grabbed the only food inside my house and ate it. But I knew that if I was to even look at noodles for the next month I would likely hurl.

There was take-out for an option. However, nothing sounded appealing to me. And if I did find something I wanted, I'd change my mind. Because it was too unhealthy or too expensive or too risky to try.

After an hour, I became so infuriated that I settled for what I _really_ wanted to do.

I knew the time spent before was me trying to deny that I wanted to invite him to eat out with me. Not a date any anything like that. Just a simple meal with no strings attached.

Besides, what teenager in their right mind would turn down free food?

So, gathering the courage left in me I started out for his house.

I was startled by how nervous I became, and so quickly.

Honestly, I'd already kissed him what- three times? Usually that came after a first date, not before. And considering we'd never had a real conversation, it made even _less_ sense for me to be anxious.

My resolution though, stayed the same.

This would not be a date. I would not try to make him blush endlessly, or poke fun at him to get the boy riled up, and I most certainly would not initiate any bodily contact whatsoever.

_Right…_

Perhaps my weak resolve and ability to convince myself of my own intentions was why I'd never participated in the interrogations as Hughes did.

My thoughts drifted away as I gazed at the formidable looking Elric residence. The building itself seemed to intimidate me. Perhaps because none of the lights, save _one_ upstairs, were shining through the windows.

Being a summer night did mean the daylight lasted longer, but it was hardly enough to have no light illuminate the house.

Were it not for that one burst of bright yellow glowing above my head, I may have turned back, thinking no one was home.

I strode to the door and knocked twice.

_No answer._

Annoyingly, I repeated my actions to be met with silence.

And I haven't the slightest clue _what_ possessed me to push open the unlocked door.

If the door was unguarded, a light on and a vehicle still in the driveway, _someone_ had to be there.

The kitchen was dark and eerie bluish light flowing through curtains swaying slightly in a breeze. Spotting no one, I moved on to the next room to my left.

All appeared to be normal, but what I saw on the floor forced my police instincts to get into gear and inspect it.

A dark red stain pooled onto the carpet, enough of the liquid to be a dark brown.

Crimes scenes held this substance.

_Blood._

I tried to remain detached and professional about it.

But my previous doubts about intrusion into a property that was not my own faded away.

Though the house looked to be peaceful and undisturbed, a robber _could_ have broken in. Judging by the light I witnessed upstairs, they may still be here.

Arming myself with what I could find, I grasped a poker from the fireplace and started up the wooden stairs.

My footsteps were tentative and slow, as I knew that wood such as this would creak under a normal application of pressure. And the last thing I wanted was for whoever was upstairs to know I was there.

The light came from an open door at beginning of the narrow hall, possibly from a lamp.

I positioned into an attacking pose, ready to swing if necessary in a batting position.

Quietly creeping in, I caught sight of a darkened figure near a dresser. This meant the source of light had to be in front of them. And that if they were to turn in the slightest, the rays would illuminate me for the world to see, and blind me momentarily. In that space of time _I _could be beaten down.

With this in mind, I came around from their right side in a curve formation.

As I neared, I saw the face turn to my direction.

I pulled back my arms, stretching the muscle as much as I could and let it fly.

They caught sight of me and yelled, ducking just in time to evade my attack.

I prepared to bring it back down overtop them as they were vulnerable on their back.

But the timid voice of Alphonse Elric startled me out of it.

"Mr. Mustang?"

The thought that I had nearly _creamed_ Ed's little brother brought to my attention that he would likely attack me upon hearing it. Attempting to beat one's sibling into carpet was no way to ask them out to dinner.

Thank _heaven_ he stopped me.

We looked at each other for the longest time. Him staring at me apprehensively, until I noticed I still had the bar above my head, which would make anyone nervous, and lowered it.

That seemed to calm him somewhat.

I held out my hand and helped him up, apologizing with a shaky laugh.

"Sir, why are you _here_?"

Recalling what I had seen downstairs, I knew it was not really a reason to break and enter someone's home. And the response of wanting to ask Edward to dinner sounded far too lame.

So, I chose to gracefully evade the question.

"Is your brother around Alphonse? There was something I wanted to speak with him about."

He blanched slightly before picking up the duffle bag he had dropped upon my assault and continued stuffing items inside it.

"No. _They_ sent me to come and get some of his clothes and stuff he might need."

I noticed how his hands shook while he spoke, but made not mention of it.

"Where _is_ he though?"

Regretfully, he turned back to me, eyes suspiciously moist and replied, "In the hospital."

A blank look flew onto my face and I found that I was stuttering randomly. How could he be in a place like that? I'd just seen him a few hours ago.

He ignored my inability to speak and whispered, "He had a concussion, and he hasn't woken up yet."

* * *

Reluctantly, Al led me through the halls, and to where his elder brother lay unconscious.

When was the last time I had been in a hospital?

I remembered coming to this same one with Maes when his wife Gracia had been in labour. Rather, it was more acute to camping out in the waiting area for two days. He was close to tears the _entire_ time.

But that day, despite my annoyance to his never shutting up about the unborn infant, was a happy day. One that was celebrated like a national holiday no doubt by their family.

This however, was _so_ much the opposite.

Questions of how this had happened ran through my mind at light speed. Yet, I couldn't seem to get any of them out.

And when I saw him lying on a stiff bed, bandages wrapped around his head and chest, broken arm still clung tightly to his side, all words I could even contemplate on saying died in my throat.

Alphonse carried the transported items and began depositing them into drawers and closets. It seemed like a routine. As if they had gone through this same thing more than once.

The thought made my stomach clench.

And I wanted _answers_.

"How did this happen?"

He looked to his brother, as if asking for an approval to answer my question. When none came he remained silent releasing his hold on the other's hand.

From the pained expression on his face, I made the assumption that this was a very touchy subject, and that I would have to tread the waters carefully.

"It's my fault," he mumbled dejectedly.

I said nothing, knowing from experience that he would start up again without prodding, unlike Ed.

"If it weren't for me, he wouldn't stay. It's my fault that he has to. I've told him to just go and get out of there. But he says he doesn't want to leave me alone, and it's what Mom would have _wanted_ him to do."

Really, the explanation was a little vaguer than I had been searching for. Apparently a nudge _was_ necessary.

"What would he get away from?"

"Our Dad."

My breath hitched in my lungs. Al didn't have to say anymore. I _thought _I understood the gravity of the situation.

However, he continued.

"He saw what you guys were doing before you came in. And… He just started going at it so hard. It's never been this bad before. He kept _hitting_ and _hitting_, even after Brother couldn't get up, even after he passed out. He just wouldn't stop! I tried to stop him. Really, I did. But when Brother was lying on the floor, and I made a move to them, he looked at me. I've _never_ seen that look on his face before. And he mouthed the word, _'no' _to me. Even though he knew what was happening. He told me no…"

Silent tears fell from the boy's eyes as he spoke and when he began to quiver and shake I felt the disgust building in my gut.

Parental abuse, it was about the _sickest_ thing there was.

And the pieces fell into place.

The black eye, bandages on the wrist, a broken arm, everything! _How_ couldn't I have noticed what _any_ of that meant?

Obviously Ed wasn't just getting into random bush fights like most boys his age.

I _should_ have known that.

In anguish, the boy revealed one more thing, "He's ruined so much… My Brother used to be _so _vibrant; he was always parading around, making people laugh and smirk." Al let out a watery chuckle, "We used to get into debates about everything, and he'd always win. Listening to him talk about something was… _amazing_. He was the most fervent person I knew."

Compared to the quiet blonde who barely smiled that I knew; this counterpart seemed to be a separate identity entirely.

"But, he ruined it all. He ruined my Brother." Al turned to me and said in the slightest of whispers, "He's the reason Brother can't talk, it was just like this." He picked Ed's hand back up.

I admit it took more than a moment for me to process what Alphonse had just said.

_Surely_ he wasn't implying…

"They got into a fight and he punched Brother's throat so hard that everything inside got messed up."

My mouth became dry and I tried to moisten it while digesting what I'd heard.

"He didn't want me to tell you because he thought you'd feel sorry for him."

No, _pity_ was the last thing running through my mind at that particular moment

I vowed that if I was ever to see that fuck of a father, I would _rip_ his eyes out.

If it weren't for him, the blonde before me wouldn't be so _damaged_ and dulled.

Though I doubted that even if I did make him blind that he would understand the raw pain he dished out.

But it sure as hell would _satisfy_ my sick sadism.

* * *

Overnight visits weren't permitted, even for family members. Thus we were both forced to leave to our respected homes. Al assured me that their Father would not be back for a while yet. And I promised to visit Edward with him tomorrow.

Yet, at 7:00 the next day, when light was barely streaming through my window I received a phone call.

"Mr. Mustang?"

Groggily I grunted an affirmative.

I barely acquired any sleep last night, and were it not for the desperate hitch in my caller's voice I would have considered hanging up.

"It's about Brother-"

Immediately my haze lifted off my mind and snapped my attention.

"-he's gone missing."

* * *

On a stiff hospital bed, lay a crumpled note draped carelessly onto the pillow.

Once read by a panicking sibling, the situation became _all _the more dire.

'_Welcome home my little pet **Pride**.'_

* * *

_AN: This chapter was a bugger to write, but I'm hoping that it was still acceptable._

_Thank you for the reviews (I cherish them all), and if you enjoyed this update as well, don't hesitate to drop a line! (Or kill me for the whole 'cliffy thing')_


	10. Our Cruelty

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Cruelty-**_

A bright fragment of light passed over my head, and then darkness ensued.

Scents of flowers and pine wafted through my nose.

The air felt chilly, making my clothes seem damp.

I could feel small wisps of wind blowing onto my bare legs. Why didn't I have pants on? It nearly felt like I was wearing a thin dress.

But that made _no_ sense.

I tried to search my memory for something that would explain things. Why couldn't I open my eyes, why did my head hurt so much, why was I outside and how was I magically floating past blurs of light?

Last I recalled, eating a mint. The faint sensation of ice was still present of my tongue.

_Right_, I took one of Al's and ate it.

If I could taste the remainders, then it must not have been too long ago.

And on my wrist I knew was a bracelet. But I never wore those.

_Flying onto the ground, a guttural groan escaping bruised lips._

I got hurt?

_Blows repeatedly falling onto the limp body._

I was in a fight?

_Screaming echoing from somewhere, and a face appearing to want to help, it was refused._

Slowly, I pieced together these flashes of color and sound, trying to understand.

I remembered someone hitting me without me even realizing the blow had been dealt, and then I'd fallen to the ground. The hits occurred so harshly and close between intervals that I couldn't move. And I saw Al's face, he wanted to help me. I knew that if he got involved, I wound not be able to guarantee his safety. So I told him _no_.

I had been in my house, and if someone was to attack me like that there, then it must have been _him_.

Well, that explained one thing.

What I thought was a dress was likely one of those gross hospital gowns, and the bracelet a 'dog-tag' to keep track of me. _Made sense._

And if my head took the brunt of his punches, that could be why it was pounding and why I was unable to see anything.

Another flash of light passed overtop me, and then returned to blue darkness.

I couldn't feel my feet touching the ground, nor did I seem to be laying on anything.

However, I did notice two pressure points, one on my back, and the other behind my knees.

Was I being carried?

If I was, then who could be holding me?

I futilely tried to open my eyes. The hold on me tightened and a low growl came from my possessor.

I smelled smoke. Cigarette smoke that had not graced my nostrils for _years._

Choking on my own breath, and trying to calm down I chose to think rationally.

Those lights above me could have been street lights, and that would explain why I was outside. And if I had come from the hospital, still dressed in their garb, it was _reasonable_ to think I had been kidnapped.

I could tell from the difference in footfalls that the terrain had changed, and felt the muscles around me flex responsively.

I knew those arms.

But there was _no_ way…

Using all will power I could muster, I forcefully snapped my eyes open, only to come face to face with a dreadful sight.

"Hello, Chibi."

My breath quickened and I fought to get out of his grasp. I stopped my own struggling when a sharp lance pierced through my arm and side, enhancing the drill being metaphorically forced to my brain.

"I wouldn't try to do that if I were you."

I ignored him and focused my attention on how I could escape.

He laughed at my lack of banter back, assuming that I would fly off into a rage of possibly being called short.

"So, I hear that these days you don't talk much," His snide smirk made the blood pump through my veins enough for them to burst.

He continued his trek through wherever we were without even taking the time to look back down at me. "How is your Mom doing Edo? Word's reached my ears that you have been a _very_ bad son."

In absolute fury I released my good arm into his face, relishing as he staggered back, and threw myself from his grasp.

The pain shot up my spine at landing so awkwardly on my injured side and I frantically scrambled to get up and run.

I heard his jaw crack when he pushed it back into place.

"That _hurt_ Chibi."

Fear exploded into me and I clawed at the hill I was sprawled on.

Hearing his footsteps tread closer I panicked, shakily standing to my feet, only to fall back down.

"Okay, maybe that was a _little_ harsh of me to greet you that way after our long separation."

A low whine emitted from my throat when I was jerked up by his hand gripping the front of the pale blue gown.

He smirked at the apprehension clearly written on my face and shoved me back onto the grass. Leaves fallen from the tree behind me cushioned the fall somewhat, but still hurt like hell.

"Don't worry, I'm not mad. Though I do believe you have betrayed me severely Chibi." Leaning closer to my face he whispered, "I saw you making out with that retired old cop. And honestly Edo, it was _quite_ sickening."

I tried not to listen to what he was saying, and when I turned away, he pulled me back to face him.

"I mean really, what desperate kind of person would sleep with the one who killed his Mother?"

Frantically, I beat my fist against his chest, trying to either ward him off or shut him up.

He was _wrong_.

Roy didn't kill her anymore than I did.

Envy sat next to me and held me down with his palm.

When had I started thinking of that bastard like that? He was supposed to be the one who annoyed my constantly, not the one I would think of to call out for.

"If you wanted action so badly, you should have called. I would have come back to deal with you sooner."

My ragged breaths halted and I waited.

"Don't you recognize this place Chibi?"

I looked around us. A garbage can, a bench, and this tree… _Oh god no._

He laughed huskily, "I see that you do. That was the first place I _took _you."

When he began to pull me closer to him, I crawled a mere foot away before his hand latched onto my ankle.

"None of that Edo."

I stared in panic at the darkening lust in his eyes, wanting all the more to run away and hide.

"You should know what I brought you here for."

His hands grasped my shoulders as I felt the cold air on my skin.

"You've been very bad-"

Tears slipped past my eyelids while I squeezed them shut. There was no way in _hell_ I was going to watch this.

"-therefore, you must be punished."

The agony was the same; the trepidation was even greater, because this time I couldn't attempt to get away.

It was different this time though, despite the pain and fear I felt, this time I could not scream outside of my own mind, I was trapped within a place where no one would hear me.

Silence became a deadly whisper.

_Roy, help me._

* * *

I didn't even bother to try to wipe the salty tracks down my face.

Envy yawned loudly and stood, stretching in the morning light.

_How_ could I let this happen again?

I was sore all over before anything else had occurred, and what he had done only made it incur tenfold.

He casually draped my garment overtop me, as if it was the most normal action in the world, and I fought to not bite his hand when it neared my mouth.

The last thing I needed was to piss him off.

"Got the time Edo?"

I remained silent, refusing to even meet his eyes.

Sighing dramatically, he tromped over and peered at the watch on my wrist. I wanted to smash his face in. But realistically, even I have to admit that at the moment, it would be impossible for _me_ to take _him_ down.

"Hmm… It's nearly seven. Perfect timing!" He chirped enthusiastically.

I wondered what I did to deserve this.

"That brother of yours is probably finding my little _'gift' _right about now."

Immediately, thoughts of something horrible that this monster had left raced through my mind, and I scowled menacingly, daring him to lay a hand on Al.

"It's nothing bad Chibi. Honestly, you always assume the worst in every situation."

That wasn't true. If I did, I would have held the sense to beg Roy to let Al and me stay with him at his house. Then I wouldn't have gotten beaten up, never would have been stolen, or _degraded_ in this way.

"I left a little message for him. Besides, didn't you tell me before that he worries about you? This way, with my foresight, he'll know that you're with me and that he shouldn't have a panic attack over your disappearance."

No, if Al saw me now, and knew what happened, he would not have a panic attack. He would be _scarred_ for life.

This time, when Envy picked me up I made no protest. Lying there quietly I decided that this must be the way things are supposed to be for me.

_Happiness_ is dangled before my mouth like a treat, and then when my guard is down, _pain_ is bestowed by its king.

"See, Edo? Look how good you're behaving. All it takes is a good lesson in control."

He kissed me hungrily like before, but I made no move to contribute anything.

All I desired was to get the taste and feel of his tongue out of my mouth.

It made me sick to think that I had once loved the being before me.

Ignorance is bliss? _What a load of shit._

Had I known what he was like beforehand, had I been smart, I would have destroyed myself with my own hands to _rid_ him of the pleasure.

I tried not to think how possessive and controlling the supposedly intimate contact felt.

Instead, I took my mind back in my memories.

Envy spoke of heading to his hideout where no one would find us and we could resume our previous activities and catch up on old times.

But I didn't care.

All I could think of was when Roy kissed me so differently.

There was something that had been there, something so foreign to me, I nearly missed it completely.

There had been _love._

* * *

_AN: Thank you for last chapter's reviews and I apologize for the boring-ness of these last couple chapters. Hopefully though, some of you will feel compelled to make me happy with any shape of size of comment. _


	11. Our Attempts

_AN: Warning! Before I get into this, be aware that the POV does change without any indication other than a page breaker. We will switch from Roy to Edo at that time._

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Attempts-**_

"Now, you all will have known why you have been called here. I appreciate you taking the time to come." I clasped my hands behind my back and turned away from the people who used to be my subordinates. Despite the fact that I was no longer an officer, I couldn't bring myself to stop giving commands rather than requests. But, luckily for me, they still referred to me as _'sir'_, and held no grudges for my abandonment of them years before.

All I had received upon my entering the building was a warm _'welcome back, sir'_, that was all.

I would need equipment for this particular operation, and the police base was the best place to look, much like the raid of the Bastille _(1). _Computers and weapons were absolutely necessary if I planned for this ludicrous plot to work.

"I've got them sir."

Fuery, main development researcher, passed me a file containing exactly what I had asked him for. I nodded gratefully and turned back to the others.

"This gentlemen… and ladies," I added quickly upon Hawkeye's penetrating glare at my assumptions that her ability to handle a gun better than any man employed here made her enough of a _man_ as well. "… is a list of locations that given certain variables was attained by Fuery." Tossing the folder onto the table top, and watching it skid down to the middle for the other six members to look at.

Hughes was the first to speak up, "Buildings? It's a list of _property_?" His question appeared to reflect on the rest of their faces and it made me wonder if they sometimes doubted my judgement.

Smirking slightly I replied, "Precisely. We know that the victim was kidnapped by a criminal, a _wanted_ criminal." As I stressed the crucial word in that statement, Maes' face dawned in understanding.

"So what?" Havoc so gracefully blurted out past his lit roll of tobacco.

"_So_, if you were a wanted man that had just come back into town, would you not want to hide out so people like us wouldn't find you? Wouldn't you choose a hideout where you didn't _need_ any identification to reside there?"

At my further explanation, I saw them nod in understanding.

I gestured to the papers, "These buildings are currently abandoned, not rented to anyone, and no one would dare go near them given their strong ability to collapse at any moment. There are a total of eighteen possible locations. Meaning we will have to split up to cover the area. And remember, we _are_ dealing with a professional here. He has eluded our forces in the past. Time is _not_ on our side, hence we must move quickly."

They nodded in ascent and started deciding who would search where. Leaving Hughes and myself alone in the room.

He sighed irritably and sauntered over to me. Bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck he asked me, "Roy, are you sure we're doing the right thing?"

I drew my old police uniform jacket up my shoulders and began buttoning it up. "What are you implying?"

"I'm just wondering if this is a question of duty, or of pride."

Sharply whipping my head up to him, I _nearly_ let out an outburst.

Upon seeing my bout of frustration he held his hands up in front of him defensively, "No need to get touchy, it was just a thought."

"And how, pray tell, would I be in this for my pride, Hughes?" I sarcastically threw back.

"Well, from what you say, this is the same guy from back then we're talking about. I think you're afraid to admit that he beat you, outwitted you and completely manipulated the situation to what he wanted."

I clapped my hands briefly with a scowl drawn up on my face, "I'll be _sure_ to give him a medal."

"I'm serious here, Roy."

Dramatically checking my gun's chamber, I slipped it into the holster. "I know you are. And I am not doing this for duty or a weird sense of pride, as you call it."

I flashed him a weak smile, "I'm doing this because I want to help him Hughes, more than I've wanted to help _anybody_."

To my surprise, he seemed neither disturbed nor shocked at what I had just admitted. Instead he chose to clap me on the back enthusiastically, "Well, he sure isn't the wife I've been telling you to get for years. But it's close enough."

I bit my tongue to prevent myself from saying something _horrendous_ and _crude_ to my best friend.

"Though I am rather curious why you asked me to come here? You do know that I refuse to go out into a field. I took a desk job for a reason, Roy."

I knew he was referring to his wife and child at home, who would be unable to support themselves without him there. "Hughes, don't worry so much. I just have a favour to ask of you."

He impatiently leaned towards me.

"I need you to get in touch with someone." I passed his a slip of paper in which I had written a name, an old acquaintance of mine whom I knew well.

At his nod, I left into the sunlight beating down from the sky above.

I could only _hope_ that I would make it in time.

* * *

I shivered from my place on the freezing cold ground. Sure if I could get some sunlight in here, it may not be so bad. But there were no windows, no furniture or anything of the sort. Only a broken down heater and a rough blanket thrown haphazardly on the ground decorated my residence of an abandoned buildings' basement.

And considering I was sitting on the blanket, with pure cement floor beneath me, it was sapping all of the bloody heat from my body.

Stairs leading up to the rest of the building were the only possible escape route, and it was really making me doubt that I could get out of here.

I tilted my head back to look at the ceiling, it remained unfinished with planks and board hanging out awkwardly, and thin metal pipes ran through them.

My pathetic gazing was broken when I heard the door open and footsteps creaked down the stairs.

Envy appeared with a tray of what seemed to be food, what it was exactly I was unsure, but nonetheless, I dove at it as he placed it in front of me.

He pulled his fingers back, _pretending_ as though I had bitten him. "Geeze Chibi. Could you eat that any faster?"

I didn't even bother to glare at him, just continued my meal in silence.

To my blatant disgust he sat bedside me and started to stroke my hair. He was acting as if I was a pet. Then again, that's probably what he thought of me as.

"You know, I heard that some desperate police men are searching for you. You must have really made an impression on them. Tell me, just how _many_ did you sleep with to gain their favour so much?" Envy casually asked me.

Rage secretly flared up inside of me, yet I kept it down, and my face stayed emotionless. To an onlooker, it would appear that he had just asked me how the weather was. And that was how I planned to _keep _it.

I felt a small giddy spark rise up from my stomach at the thought that Roy was actually taking the time to look for me. Honestly, I can't say how I knew it was him leading the search, I just did.

He looked disappointed at my abstinence.

To my -for once- good luck he left shortly after, mumbling something about checking on how their search was coming along.

_It was time to get to work._

Stumbling slowly, I moved over to the tall decrepit furnace and easily climbed up it, even with a broken arm.

I hoisted myself onto the crude framework just above my head and clutched it like a koala. All the while groaning at the burning sensation skittering up and down my side. Really, I could have been more careful, but I was unsure as to just how much time I had to get into position.

Need I mention that with no windows it was pitch black with the out leading door closed? And unbeknownst to Envy, it would create the perfect advantage for me.

Clutching the wood for my life, not desiring to fall from eight feet, I crawled along,

My centipede motions brought me quickly to the destination. A spot right above where the last stair ended.

Now, if I could just get the pipe above my head free.

I reached up with my good arm and braced myself with the other.

The wood in which it was screwed onto was horribly decaying and the small water pipe came off easily. Shards of the rotten wood fell to the ground right below me, and at first I panicked.

_What if those made him see me up here?_

But then again… If I was to see pieces of wood on the floor, I would surely stop to inspect them and then wonder where they came from.

I could only _hope_ that he would act as I would.

I waited there for so long. It seemed like a fucking eternity!

But I had to remind myself that patience was necessary, and that if I didn't want this to end up like last time as well, I couldn't very well be impulsive or rash. This could be the only chance I would have, so I _had_ to get it right on the first try.

My heart harshly resonated in my ears, pounding so fast that I barely heard his light footsteps once again fall onto the stairs.

And thank heaven; he shut the door, getting rid of the only light source.

I heard an enraged cry, "Oww! What the _hell_ was that?"

Oh, the splinters. He must have stepped on them.

_Now was my only chance._

Unlike him, I had been sitting in this darkness for nearly five hours, and I was very used to the contoured lines of shapes. He was likely seeing a large patch of green covering his vision from the change in density.

_Now or never._

I flung myself over the edge of the board and with my uninjured arm, brought the two inch thick pipe down over my head and onto the back of his skull.

His body dropped like a sack of potatoes and he groaned groggily while trying to clutch the bleeding area and figure out what had just hit him.

I stood shakily, after landing on his ass; and brought the weapon back to its previous position and repeated the act.

Envy's cries and strangled yells echoed off the large dark area fit for bats.

_Strike._

This bastard **deserved** this.

_Strike._

Everything was **his **fault.

_Strike._

Why couldn't **I** control myself?

I hit him again and again, reminding myself briefly of the one who did similar things to me. And that revelation nearly made me stop.

But when I saw the faces that haunted me endlessly, I continued my assault.

Some landed on his head, some on his back, arms or legs.

A pool of blood steadily grew from underneath him, and I knew that he was dead.

_But…_

I couldn't stop myself.

That absolute fear I had felt since I left both Al and Roy's side pushed my conscious mind into overdrive and my animal instinct of self defense overcame me.

A faint voice in the back of my mind hesitantly warned me that this was not self defense, it was _slaughter_.

This revenge that I thought I deserved so much really was not as satisfying as I had thought to would be.

In anguish the pipe dropped from my shaking fingertips, clattering to the floor loudly, before bouncing into the growing blossom liquid of death.

_Splatter._

Some of it spattered onto my bare feet and I cringed in disgust.

This familiar scent made me want to retch out the contents of my stomach violently.

I fell to my knees, and then fully to the floor.

The last thing I remember was seeing a huge chasm of light spread across the floor and a panicked voice called my name.

I tried to answer, but nothing came out.

_It was always like that._

* * *

_AN_: Oo

_-Nervous laugh- well, the majority vote was to have Envy seriously mangled or killed, so I hope this didn't disappoint._

_If you likey, please tell me so._

_Thank you to reviewers thus far!_

_(1) Bastille- Brief reference to Bastille Day, from the revolution in France, occurring near 1789, where peasants invaded the prison to gain weaponry. If you want more info look it up. _


	12. Our Love

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Our Love-**_

A horrible metallic taste wafted through my mouth, mixing with the saliva and creating a disgusting acidic taste. I spit, gratefully ridding myself of the liquid, and slowly sat up.

I had been lying on a cold steel floor.

Next to me was a huge pool of blood, and I realized that was the taste I'd woken up with.

In blunt repulsion I heaved my chest repeatedly, wanting to be rid off all traces of said substance.

But, if there was blood, didn't a body have to be near?

Apprehension clouded my mind as I turned back to see that what had seemed like a pool was now a pond, small rivulets running off in smaller streams. They were coming nearer to me, seeking me out in this horrendous darkness.

I panicked and stumbled backwards. Awkwardly I crawled in a crab-like position to attempt to escape from the red claws while they sped up and all turned their paths to _my_ direction.

My back bumped into an unseen wall, and I felt a whimper work its way up my throat. Nearing me decisively, they fortified the attack, all coming together to form a large gaping hand and surrounded me, reaching to me with thin, breakable, but oh-so strong strength I knew they possessed.

I wanted to call out to somebody.

My voice wasn't working.

'_Why?' _Shivering desperately I let the thought wander through before remembering. _'That's right, I can't do that anymore.'_

I couldn't yell at them to stay away from me, or call for help, hell, I could not _even_ scream like a female in a crude horror movie at the gory killing climax.

The silence from us both _terrified_ me.

Brokenly, I brought my knees up protectively against my chest and wrapped my arm around them. I knew the reaction was childish, but it was called a reaction for a _reason_. It was so freakishly unconscious, that even when I noticed I had done it, I could not will myself to remove it.

It wasn't as if this would protect me.

Maybe I was waiting for someone to save me.

'_You cannot save anyone.'_

The chilled voice echoed past the barriers I had tried to set up in a futile attempt to separate myself from the situation.

From that bloody hand rose up my own personal hell.

"Envy." I whispered. And strangely, unlike his previous words, mine made no echo, not even any sound.

_Oh yeah…_

Fuck, what the hell was _wrong _with me?

Why could I _not_ get it through my dense brain that I could not talk?

Surely it wasn't a hard concept to grasp.

Maybe because I wanted nothing more than to be able to have that ability once again. I have never wanted something _so_ badly.

Too bad a god that I didn't believe in had the same sentiments for me.

'_What's the problem Chibi?'_

In mute horror (quite literally) I stared at him, half fearfully and half disbelievingly.

Had I not killed him moments before?

A feline smirk festered on his face, until it exploded into a smirk. _'Did you actually think that someone like you could kill me? How amusing,' _Envy began laughing hysterically, using a blood soaked hand to cover his mouth.

The action brought forth blood from somewhere deep inside his chest, possibly from the internal bleeding I had to have caused, and it spilled from his mouth.

He became silent and stalked towards me.

The nearer he got, the more I wanted to kill myself and be rid of this fucking torture.

A dislocated jaw hung from the bottom of his face, drooping on the left side, and nearly coming down to rest on his neck. Crimson liquid poured out of multiple gashes on his head, through his soaked hair, past his clothes, on everything! As if his very soul had been stained by my hands.

Despite my urge to gag at the gross sight I held my ground. _'It isn't any worse than what he has done to me.'_

Broken fingers brushed the outer edge of my ear clumsily.

Though I had felt quite cocky moments ago, I seemed to be paralyzed with his ministrations. That, however, did not stop me from trembling at his seemingly intimate caress.

'_You know Edo; I believe I have just had an epiphany.'_

Envy tonelessly plopped down next to me, and I winced when his likely dismantled spine cracked at least three times.

I forced myself not to stare at the distracting bone _protruding_ from the side of his neck.

He gestured to the empty darkness in front of us, _'Everyone you come into contact with dies.'_

In confusion I followed his gesture with my eyes and gasped as the hidden floor acquired more participants in this sick game.

My mother's dead eyes bore holes into my own.

'_Of course, like life, not all of these were literally physical slaughters.'_

Envy pointed to my father, a blank look in the man's similar colored eyes to my own.

'_Take him for instance. This man was brutally beaten by his drunken stepfather everyday for workings that were outside his own. He met a plain, common woman in high school and soon asked her to marry him. She agreed, and they had a plain and common ceremony, both dropping out of their last year of school. Through all the flashbacks and dreams he would have of what had occurred before the two of them began, she helped him through them. She was his reason for living each day. Because every time he even considered ending it all selfishly, she asked him to live for her that she needed him to survive. And he replied that he thought the same of her. Life progressed and they were blessed with not one, but two children, and could not have been happier.'_

Amethyst eyes turned to me suddenly, _'Think Chibi. Can't you remember times when he would carry you on his shoulders and you would cry with delight that it was like being on top of the world? Do you recall him saying that to a short shrimp being on top of anything would seem like a prospect of change in one's perceptions in the world, particularly regarding how little he actually was?'_

I nodded numbly. Envy was right, I _did_ remember that. After he'd insulted me so bluntly, Mom and Al covered their ears, at my outraged cry of _'what would an old man like you know?'_

'_You see? And why do you think it was that he regarded you with such hatred once you became older?'_

I didn't know.

'_He saw himself in you.'_

I blanched and shook my head, _trying_ to deny it.

The mangled hand grasped my shoulder and _forced_ me to turn back to my depressed father_. 'Look at him. Edo, can't you see? He loved his family with all of his heart. They gave him something he thought he would never have.'_

But, this new insight made _no_ sense. _'Then why did he…?'_

'_Simple Chibi,' _and Envy's tone changed to nostalgic, _'My parents always neglected me, you know. I already told you that. But what I failed to mention was that I'd never met my real birth parents. Apparently, my mom got pregnant with me by a guy in school that she barely knew. He left her once he found out about it and suggested that she 'get rid of it'. But, that kind of thing took money, so she decided a much crueller tactic. She carried me for the nine months, gave birth to me, and promptly dropped me off at the nearest orphanage. I went from foster home to group home to living on the fucking alleyway. I had nothing, no money, food, hardly even any clothes to consider myself half decent to wander through public. You know what though, one day, a man comes walking past my poorly made shelter and takes one look at me straight in the eyes and mumbles, 'my god'. He took me to a café on the street and explained to me that he was my father, and recognized me from my mother's amethyst eyes. That bastard abandoned me and had the gall to try and apologize, say he had been young and stupid and offer to pay my way through school. I accepted, despite my resentment, and picked up my senior year in which I had left. Then I saw the oddest thing walking through the halls, I could hardly believe my luck! I saw a boy wandering around, trying to find his way in the new surroundings, and the funniest thing was that he had golden eyes and hair, just like the bastard I had encountered.'_

I felt a cool chill run up through my clothing.

Envy grinned at me, _'I hated you, because you were that bastard's son, and decided that to get my revenge I would break both you and he in the most devastating way possible. I mean really, he played with you, took you and your brother to ball games, gave you serious talks about life, and worst of all, he loved the shit out of you!'_

That's right… _How_ had I forgotten that?

'_Why wasn't I good enough? What was so different between you and me?' _He brokenly asked me.

I remained silent, _'I don't know.'_

'_So, I followed you one night and screwed the hell out of you, and went to him, told him of what I had done and of how hard you screamed, and promised that I would do it again. When he tried to hit me in a rage, I reacted as any sane person would. I ignored his yelling for me 'to stay the hell away' from you and brought the gun in the back of my pocket clean across the back of his head. And honestly, you should know Chibi that I never was a science major like you, and I sure didn't know a whole lot about biology, but I did know one thing. I'm aware that you know the medulla oblongata is the most important part of the brain, and it's located at the very base of a head. Without it, a person can't control subconscious reactions like breathing or keeping rhythm for a heart, hell; a person wouldn't even be able swallow. But I wasn't kind enough to send the one I hated so deeply into a vegetable-like state of a coma. Not at all. Instead, I tilted my aim upwards to a much more delicate area of the brain, where memories are stored, and dreams subconsciously created. See, it wouldn't do me any good to kill him. And, he appeared fine for weeks, just like so many patients clouded with amnesia, and the symptoms of my actions didn't begin for weeks, like I had planned. One rainy day, he developed a horrible headache and had trouble staying awake. And after you left to come and see me, your Mother forced him to go to the doctor's office and get himself checked out. She assured him that she and Alphonse would be perfectly fine alone.' _Envy giggled insanely, _'Imagine his blunt surprise when he left the hospital after them being unable to determine what was wrong with him, and telling him to come back later, only to see police cars rapidly gathering at an alleyway not too far away? He ran like an idiot to get there, just had a gut feeling I suppose. And do you know what he saw when he arrived?'_

I shook my head lightly.

'_He saw, not you, but me holding his wife dead, with a gun on my hand and her blood blooming from her dress and onto me. Edo, you out of anyone should know how delicate the brain really is. One little nudge and a person's personality can alter completely without their control or consent.' _

I could not understand.

Envy sighed irritably, _'Sure are slow on the uptake aren't you Chibi? Let me make it clearer. Every so often, when he saw you, sometimes his mind would flash, and memories would collide with what he was actually witnessing and through his eyes he would be staring me in the face while he beat me into the ground, instead of you, whom he was actually injuring. Is it not brilliant? The perfect revenge against both you and him.'_

This could not be true. Envy _had_ lied to me before, maybe this was only a repeat.

'_Didn't you ever wonder why he is gone so often, usually after smacking you into pulp wood for a fire place?'_

Well, I _did_. But, I'd always assumed that he went out to get drunk. No one had ever even mentioned him going to the hospital and he sure as hell didn't say he knew Envy. And that day, I had thought that he let Mom go alone, because he was drinking himself stupid. _'Of course.' _The light finally dawned in me. If he had been struck at the head, it was only natural that he would often look sluggish and drunk. _Why_ didn't he tell me?

'_He would leave thinking that he had killed me after really having a spat with you and go to the hospital to get some pain relievers for the killer migraine that ensued afterwards. Never knowing what had happened. Then, when he saw you the next day, and saw all of your obvious injuries, he would think that I had done it once again. And then, the next time he saw me, or rather you, with the revelation that I was still alive, and attacked me all the more brutally. All the while thinking that he was acquiring revenge for you.'_

My breath hitched in my throat as I stared at the broken man before me, drowning in his sorrows. _'I had no idea…'_

Envy let go of my shoulder, not even reacting when his arm crackled. _'You see now? And can you imagine his outrage the day he came back to you being unable to speak? That day, the beating was pretty harsh, wasn't it?'_

I remembered, after all, it was still fresh in my mind.

"If it were not for you, she would still be here! Why did you have to drag her into your shit, huh? Couldn't stand not having attention? Well you'll have it now."

'_But don't you see Chibi; none of it is actually my fault. If you had never existed, then none of any of this would have happened,' _He gestured to Roy and Al that now joined the other two whose lives I had ruined. _'You made your Brother hate your father, and caused him to lose his mother. Can you imagine that kind of anguish? And what would he say were he to discover that it was all his precious 'Brother's' fault?'_

Tears escaped from my eyes freely now, I made no move whatsoever to hold any of them back. Envy was _right_. I did not _deserve _to live.

'_And take this man,' _Envy got up and stumbled over to Mustang and patted his head, _'He was a respectable cop, one that wasn't corrupt or cruel and he truly wanted to make a difference. His team and he brought in more criminals than any other force in this town's history. And that says a lot. But can you imagine a man with such ideals plunging a bullet into an innocent woman's gut? How would you feel if put into his situation? He may angst over it and think that it was his fault, but you are too much of a coward to even admit that _you're_ the one to blame. You just ignorantly shove all the blame onto him and call it a day.'_

_God… _Every one that I cared about I hurt so badly. There was no way I could ever make up for it. I _wanted_ to die.

'_And me, you killed _me_ most of all.' _He laughed, _'You literally took a pipe to my broken body and continued beating me down, just like society has done for all of my life. But that still didn't satisfy little Edo, whom everyone likes and praises for his prodigy abilities. No! You had to keep going on; even after you told yourself I was dead. Here's a wake up call Chibi- or should I call you Monster? - those kinds of people are what we all call murders. Shit, we should get this retired pony to re-enlist as a man of law. That way, he could bring the worst criminal of all in and hopefully regain some of his old status that you so hungrily stole from him. You, Monster, are the most abusive man of crime I have ever laid eyes on.'_

I sobbed. He was fucking right! I was _going_ to die.

I had been so quick to blame all of my problems on someone else and say it was their fault, rather than facing that it was my fault. Hell, even my mentally beaten down father tried to tell me it all was my culpability. _Why_ in fuck's name didn't I listen?

I was _going_ to kill myself.

But a soft voice stopped me.

"Brother, can I come under the covers with you?"

"Al, please try to grow some backbone. What are you- nine years old? Right, so you are too old to be coming whining to me about being scared of a little thunderstorm."

"But I had a bad dream. I dreamt that you went away, and I couldn't get you back. I kept looking and looking but I couldn't find you!"

"Oh, Al. You know I wouldn't leave you no matter what, right? I've told you before."

"Yeah…"

"Well then quit crying and hurry up and get in!"

"You're really warm… Thank you Brother."

"Sure thing Alphonse."

My sobbing halted. Al had told me then that he wanted me to stay with him. But I couldn't do that if I died, right?

"You're growing your hair out Edward?"

"Yep."

"Why in heaven's name would you do a thing like that? Eventually you'll get so tired of brushing it everyday that you'll cut it off."

"No I won't! I wanna grow it out like yours, Daddy!"

"Well, if you're so set on it, there's something I should show you."

"What?"

"It's kind of like a trick to avoid knots and snares with longer hair; it's something my father taught me. Has your Mother taught you to braid yet? No? Well, then turn around."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really. All you have to do it split up the hair like this, into three sections, and remember to start out on the left and work your way right by winding the hair together."

"Hehe, it tickles!"

"Well, if you'd stop squirming so much… There! How do you like it?"

"Cool! Thank you Daddy."

"Now, if you want to be able to do it yourself, you're going to have to practice, just as with anything else. I'm sure your Mother wouldn't mind being a guinea pig for something like this."

"_No_. I wanna practice on _your_ hair."

"Alright then. _Edward! _Don't pull so hard. Everything has feeling to it, no matter what it is; you must always regard everything as though it has feeling and emotion. Even something as trifle as hair. Do you understand?"

"Yes Daddy. I'll be more careful."

Everything has feeling. Did that apply to me too? Now that I thought about it that was probably the most valuable adivce my father had given me. But like a fool, there were so many times when I went against it. Was I not about to do it again?

"Mommy, why do people kiss?"

"That's a strange question for you to be asking. What kind of shows have you been watching?"

"It's not that! It's just that Winry was saying how much she'd like to be kissed by Al. But, why would she want to suck on his face?"

"Hmmm… Most people do it to show that they love another person."

"Love?"

"Yes. Like when your Daddy brings me flowers or takes me out some place nice to eat, it's the same as kissing. He does it to show me he loves me. Especially since he's not been one to use words of affection often. Most men prefer to show things rather than tell them."

"Does that mean I do too?"

"I think you're different. And I know that when someone kisses or hugs you, you'll do your best to appreciate the gesture, even if you don't like that person."

"I thought you said to not talk to strangers? Isn't hugging them worse?"

"You goofball. You don't need to take it to _such_ an extreme. What I meant was, someday someone might do something like that to you, and you may not realize it at the time, but that person will probably have very strong feelings for you. And they may _not_ be able to tell you at first. So promise me you'll **live** for that person."

"I will."

Fuck. I could feel my resolve crumbling beneath my feet. Mom told me to live for the one that loved me.

'_A feather light yet strangely deep kiss was placed onto parted lips and a gasp escaped the throat.'_

Roy had kissed me.

That meant _he_ loved me didn't it?

All of the little things, holding my hand, stroking my hair, opening up to me about his worst scars, and caring enough to put up with my temper. Hugging and kissing me, weren't those supposed to be gestures out of love?

"Don't dwell on the past Chibi. Things happen that you cannot change, and you just have to deal with it."

_That's right._

I couldn't give up so selfishly. They, all of the people who had been hurt, were telling me to get up onto my legs and move forward.

'_So Edo, what are you going to do?'_

'_I'm going to live. It's not my fault, nor is it anyone else's.'_

Envy smirked wolfishly, _'Well, then. What the _hell_ are you waiting for? Hurry and wake up.'_

Wake up, Ed.

* * *

I awoke, as the darkness of my dream faded away, and I was left in the wake of an ironically dark hospital room.

If I was currently in a hospital, then did it mean none of the events with Envy had acutally happened, and I'd never left here in the first place?

Shifiting my back to sit up, I winced at the low burning deep within a specific part of my anatomy that apparently, was still in the process of recovering.

Well, that ruled out the whole dream prospect.

"I'd sit still if I were you."

The husky tone drifted from a corner of where I couldn't see, and the suddenness of realizing that I was not alone in the room nearly resulted in a horrible and _embarrassing_ accident.

Roy came into my view, blue light from the night sky outside flowing in onto his dark hair, giving it a brillant raven-like shine. I irked to touch it, as a four year old would a shiny object.

"You're very lucky I persuaded your doctor to allow me to stay overnight. Lord knows I can't go around rescuing you _every_ time you leave my sight for an hour."

I growled reflexively, and then blushed in embarrassment. That light I remembered flooding the basement, and the voice calling me, had that been _him?_

I hoped he couldn't see the furious glowing of my face. Lest I die of shame.

Mustang sat on the edge of my bed and made no comment when I scooted closer to him, so that my arm was touching his knee.

He reached out and brushed some of my rebellious bangs out of my face. "Are you okay though?"

I admittedly leaned into his hand and nodded.

There really was no need to let him in on what happened in the epic, but surprisingly short stay with Envy. Being the humble and self-degrading man he was I knew that if he was enlightened on what had occurred, that he would blame himself. And I really didn't want to have to deal with that. At least, not right at this moment.

"You scared the _shit_ out of me."

Perking up to his grave sounding voice, I found that he genuinely appeared distressed over my well being.

The thought made my insides tingle.

"No matter how much I called you when I found you, covered in blood may I add, you would not answer me or wake up."

I stared at him mockingly. Did he _not _get the picture?

Roy snorted in annoyance before tapping the tip of my nose playfully, "I know you couldn't _actually_ answer me. But, I would have even taken your raised middle finger to that silence."

I paused, and then gaped in disbelief. How could he possibly-?

"Thought I didn't notice? You should be more discreet it you plan to keep it a secret that you flip me off whenever I say something that pisses you off. But, at least then I can tell exactly what you're thinking."

_Stupid bastard._

"Something along the lines of me being a bastard, right?"

He smugly smirked at my implication of invoking said device of thought and emitional communication.

Bastard. I rarely thought of him as anything else, so of course he would be able to guess my mood correctly. And when I did see him with different eyes, the intensity of emotion I felt _scared_ me.

Suddenly, the playful demeanor melted away to bring a grieving face. He leaned in close to my face, breath wispering against my skin. "Seriously, though. _Please_ don't do that again." Roy's warm lips came down upon my own and this time I felt the unspoken message immediately.

_I love you._

That small action spoke more volumes to me than he would ever know.

I returned it as best I could, considering he was nearly smothering my face into a soft pillow beneath my head.

A sharp rining of, what I guessed to be, a cell phone pierced through the moment. This time it was I who smirked upon the look of utter aggrivation he had from being torn away from passion.

Heaving a heavy sigh once he read the call display he briskly answered, but his tone changed from blasé to sharp. Mustang glanced at me from the corner of his eye, "Did you actually find him that fast, Hughes? Yes, _yes_, I know you are an Intelligence Officer. I just didn't expect you to get it done so soon. So, when can he make it?"

He stood up and trotted to the door, and his jerky actions made me all the more curious. Combined with the way his unoccupied fingers were unconsciously rubbing against one another, I deduced that the great Roy Mustang was nervous.

Well _cue_ the Appocalypse and _call_ me a chatter box.

"What do you mean he's here already? In the lobby downstairs… _God_ Maes! Couldn't you give me some sort of warning beforehand? Just because I was watching over Edward does _not_ meant that-"

I silently giggled at the banter that must have been going on from both sides of the line.

Oh, what I wouldn't give to be able to try that out with him myself. The things I could say…

"I'll be right down." Roy snapped the phone shut and turned to me, with a new determination and vigour shinning through his eyes. What the hell was he so happy about?

He came back over to where I was laying looking at him curiously. And to my pleasure began stroking the back of my head comfortingly, "I have to go down to meet someone. I want you to meet him too though. I _think_ he may be able to help you."

My curious expression perked to bluntly bewildered. What in heaven's name was he talking about?

"I'll be right back," he whispered into my hair, and then disappeared into the dark once again, gone.

When he left, why did it feel like a piece of me left with him?

Didn't he say he'd be back right away?

So why was I feeling so… _lost?_

To my gratitude, I heard his mumbling from the other side of my door and a joyful cry rang out before the same door that was acting as a barrier to the outside world slammed open.

In fewer seconds than I could even think to count Al was in front of me, bawling into my hand that he had grabbed.

"Brother, you _idiot_! What were you thinking?"

I shrugged nonchalantly and let him carry on with his accusations of me being stupid and dense and a liar.

I frowned at the last one.

While he kept shaking his head, I pulled my (now wet) hand away from him and watched the hurt creep into his eyes.

Instead, I took his into the one I had removed and made no other expression other than a questioning gaze of _'why?'_

His face colored heatedly. I'm not sure if it was from embarrassment or shame, but when he hung his head low, I knew what he meant.

"I'm sorry Brother. I didn't mean that. It's just-" Al looked to me and at my nod to continue he fidgeted, "Well, you told me that you'd _never_ leave, and then you go _missing_ and I find out that you were _kidnapped _by a sadistic _criminal_ and that Mustang didn't know _where_ you were and neither did anyone else. And I… I kept on thinking of how much of a _liar_ you were."

He seemed ashamed when he snuggled his face into my blanket, refusing to meet my gaze.

My frown deepened, and I gracefully flicked him on the forehead. _Hard. _

Al snapped up, prepared to flick me back, but before he could I pulled him into a loose hug. So as not to injure myself any further.

He buried his nose into my shoulder momentarily, then pulled back, stared me straight in the eye as a tamer to a bull would and whispered, "Brother, you _are_ an idiot."

For once, I felt no need to protest.

Yes, there were those rare times that even I would admit how stupid I was. This just happened to be one of them.

A deep knock resonated off of the door, and at the cue, Al scampered away from my bed immediately, sitting in the chair Mustang had been occupying recently.

He began to bite on his thumbnail nervously.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Roy and another man entered soundlessly, and both stood in front of me, the latter scrutinizing me seriously.

Hell, screw Al _and_ Mustang.

This old fart was making _me_ nervous.

At my withdrawl into my pillow, Roy's gaze softened.

"Ed, this is a friend of mine whom I have asked to come and have a look at you. He's a doctor, more like a specialist in a very specific area."

The man who was actually quite short (to my delight) with peppered streaks running through his dark hair smiled at me, as through he had done this exact thing a thousand times.

"Hello there, Edward. Roy here seems to think that I can help you out, and I sure will _try_. My name is Doctor Tim Marcoh."

* * *

I snuggled closer into Roy's broad chest and sighed.

This was absolutely _perfect._

After sipping some hot chocolate from his mug, he peered down at me, "Did you fix things?"

I nodded.

'_He could only hope that this would work. If it didn't…_

_He tugged on the larger man's sleeve, insistent, but not enough to annoy him. All that would do was ruin everything he was wagering on this one act._

_They went down the wooden stairs with a high beam flashlight in his finally healed arm; he shone it down on the dead human at the foot of the stairs._

_His Father gasped beside him, before brokenly stepping further. "He's finally dead?"_

_The blonde nodded._

_And on pure impulse, not really confident that the blunt outlook of a realization would cure the man, the boy moved close to him and pulled him into a hug. Something he had not done in years. _

_It broke the spell._

_The Father affectionately ruffled his son's hair, and whispered quietly, "It's over."_

_He nodded.' _

Roy smiled down at me, "I'm glad."

I was too.

After all, doing something as simple as sitting in front of a fireplace with a hot drink in hand, enjoying the warmth of a cotton blanket draped over his shoulders and me being able to cuddle up to him was all that I had really wanted. Just the simple ability to do that and not have a care in the world.

But, to my dissapointment, Roy hadn't done anything more than hug me since that night in the hospital nearly a month ago. No kissing or any other more 'Mature' rated actions had occurred and quite frankly I was sick of it.

I mean, I know he didn't want to _risk_ hurting what Dr. Marcoh had spent days creating. But honestly.

There I was a horny teenager, eager for some action, and Roy refused to give me any.

I pouted to spite myself.

However, on a lighter note, he did not yet know about what _I_ had discovered that morning while brushing my teeth in his kitchen while he slept like a rock. Though I would have thought he'd have woken up instantly with the rattling and booming _my_ excited leaping and jumping around had caused.

Stupid _dense_ bastard.

And, I did know what his problem was.

Since that holy and divine kiss he had actually _spoke _the words of love to me at least four times.

I had not replied.

Obviously not with words, but not even with pen and paper or even a nod in duplicaton of what he told me.

That _had_ to be grating on hid nerves.

The paranoid bastard probably doubted that I felt anything for him. And my insistence towards a more physical side of our strange relationship probably only made it look even more like I was in it for the lust alone.

I had been secretly practicing all day out of his sight, preparing for this moment as Al had _advised_ me to do.

I swallowed, carefully wetting my throat as the doctor _warned_ me to.

As his gaze flickered back to the roaring fires I felt a little putout that he couldn't -for once- notice the importance of a moment and spare me a little extra attention.

Gods knows if I was standing before him naked he sure would be looking my way. And likely get either whiplash or strained neck muscles when his head would snap over to me.

_Pervert._

I, however, didn't need such petty things as that.

I had something much better, and it was probably (according to Al) the best gift that I could give him on his Birthday. Considering I had not even _mentioned_ the subject all day.

Ah, another reason for him to look so depressed I suppose.

_Back to business._

I uncurled my arm from being pinned between both of our fronts and reached up to his face.

The limb coming into his line of sight must have brought his gaze back down to me.

And when my palm cupped his cheek, he said nothing, just stared at me with a _blank_ look on his face.

_Greedy_ bastard.

I let in a deep breath.

For god's sake, I'd done this at _least_ twelve times today; it was nothing to be scared of doing!

But, I hadn't actually done it in front of _another_ person for what felt like so long.

Due to my silence, and I suspect to the tears that pilowed in my eyes, his gaze turned into concern.

_Fucking hell. _I was acting like an emotional girl.

Emotional I'd take, but no way in hell would I bend to the level of calling myself a girl, no matter how long my hair did get. The word _'girl' _brought Winry Rockbell to mind, and she was as scary as hell.

_No way._

"Edward, are you all-" Roy tried to ask until I moved my thumb onto his lips, pressing them closed.

Fat salty tears rolled down my cheeks that I couldn't stop. And for once, I didn't want to.

"_I love you."_

Roy gasped at my whispered words, staring at me as though he could hardly believe it. It was likely that he couldn't.

Hell_, I _sure didn't at first.

Once the moment of awe broke, he leaned down and gave me what I had _desired_ so fervently.

Through my parted lips I mumbled, _"Happy birthday," _before he claimed them again as possessions of his own.

* * *

_AN: T.T I LOVED writing this chapter, and to you readers and reviewers alike, I hope you are damned happy! This officially breaks my longest chapter posted by about three thousand words, and I've stayed up until -looks at computer clock- 7:00 AM. So be happy!_

_Raging rant aside, this is not the end, one more chapter will be posted to tie up lose ends whenever I get the time._

_Be proud my faithful reviewers, without all of you, this story would not have progressed past Ch.1, so I (and I'm sure those that read and don't review) are very glad for your contribution!_

_And please, for the love of well-needed sleep, leave a comment! _


	13. Ourselves

**VOCALIZE:**

_**Ourselves-**_

We had actually made a significant profit, despite the old man protesting that his imported chewing tobacco should have been fifty five cents cheaper due to an advertisement. To my humiliation, Al was the one to deal with said difficult customer. I had been sorely tempted to beat the _crap_ out of the fart adorned with a mouldy fishing hat. But, like always, Alphonse pulled me away from such an embarrassing situation and plopped me back to the till to count cash. This, by the record of my post-it-notes, I had to re-do _five_ times.

Hey, you try counting out various bills with obscene comments blurring your head each time you passed a hundred.

"It's my snuff dammit, and I'll pay up for it in _exactly _$6.35, I saw it in the paper."

"Sir, that flyer was not for this establishment. We've been trying to tell you that-"

"Mine, ya hear? I don't feel it right to give to such young kids like yourselves an extra amount. Ain't right to try and cheat paying customers out of house and home, son. $6.90! _Kids_ these days…"

I sighed, baring my teeth warningly, "Hey! Grandpa! Stop being a stingy old man and pay up. _We_ provide the goods, and you people give _us_ money."

His long bearded face whipped over to mine and he snarled, cigar nearly falling out of the protruding crack of his covered lips. "And I _especially_ ain't ready to give that whining toddler over there anything! What are you boy, six?"

'_That's right buster, you keep smoking that damn pouch of rolled leaves, just wait till it burns up enough to start your overloaded facial hair on fire.'_

Grinning at my daytime fantasies, though weakening slightly at Al's glare, I smartly shut up and let him deal with it.

After all, Roy had graciously mentioned to me that if I was to voice such… offensive thoughts to customers, I would likely be out of business _very_ quickly.

And if there's one thing I'll give Al that I don't myself, it's his abundance in patience. I don't know where he gets it.

"How about this? You pay what we've asked, and I'll include this," Al stated while holding up sparkly neon bait shaped as a worm.

The glint of golden sparkles seemed to calm the codger, before he grumbled about sneaky salesman's deals and snatched the item, handed over the money, leaving on his way. A small portion of chewy substance already breached his mouth.

I cried out in triumph, "Three hundred and sixty eight! Fucking finally…"

My brother sighed at my enthusiastic cursing and proceeded to tally up the inventory, since closing time was fast approaching.

Luckily, my part of the day was already complete, and Roy would be coming soon, so I could kick back on the barstool and watch Al doing physical labour.

_Ah, right._

Roy reenlisted two weeks ago, and has now returned to his old position of an officer. From what I'd heard out of Hughes after the fact, their jurisdiction was exceedingly happy to have such a capable man back.

That left his store in thin air.

There was no way he could have his job and tend to manage the building. And he'd said he couldn't just sell it.

So, after much persuasion and pestering on his part to myself, I accepted the role of Manager. Of course, I'd hired Al (who was job hunting) to work with me.

Talk about responsibility.

No longer could I sleep until noon, nor do _whatever_ the hell I pleased.

Nope.

Mustang's words were, and I quote, "Now remember, you _are_ a responsible adult. And if you can't live up to that then for the sake of your _pride_ please try to at least act like one."

A certain word jarred me, nearly knocking the wind out of me. But, for the sake of moving on, I made no visual signs of my discomfort.

And besides, who the hell was _he_ to talk?

I've gone into the place where he is supposed to be working.

Lazing around on his ass better fits what he gets paid to do. I hate to think how bad it would get around there were it not for a certain sniper circling through the building.

When I had seen the harness underneath Hawkeye's jacket and made a comment of it, she smiled dryly. "You have to be prepared when working with children like these."

Obviously, I was not making the connection between a gun and misbehaviour. Though once I heard shots fired from Havoc's desk area, I bolted to the washroom in a sudden understanding.

And if she had Roy that well trained too, well, let's just say _I_ considered getting one myself. Only to torture him upon impulse of course.

Alphonse slipped his light jacket on; cold fall weather was slowly approaching, prepared to leave.

But, he halted while walking past where I was and awkwardly came to stand in front of me.

"What's the matter Al?"

I wish I could've taped the look on his face with some picture or camcorder when I'd come home and simply said _'Hello' _to him.

_The price is right? _Yeah, I'd say that to see Roy's, Al's and even my Father's expressions to my speaking were very regardful for the pain surgery took.

All I can do is thank someone that Marcoh was a smart enough man to realize that some of the vocal cords had been damaged, but not all. Also, according to him, my voice box was fine, hence the reason I previously could growl, moan or sigh.

Mustang however, gave the best reaction by far. Unfortunately, it didn't come any farther than a hot make out session, it _never_ did.

Twirling his thumbs nervously Al refused to meet my gaze. "I need your advice on something, Brother."

Advice? Well, I wasn't a philosopher, but I damn well could try.

"How do you kiss a person?"

I blinked disbelievingly.

Was he actually serious?

"Ah… Well-I… Why are you asking _me_?"

"Who was I supposed to ask, Dad perhaps?"

"I'm sure he did that with Mom, Al. Didn't you pay attention in Health class when they spoke of the birds and bees? Surely you know that people who do that usually-"

He blushed beet red, "I _know_ that!"

I outright laughed at his embarrassment; it was just all too fun to tease one's baby brother.

Though, they say to fight fire with fire…

"I'm asking you because you _must've_ done those things with Roy."

I believe I pulled a gold fish act while trying to catch up to my brain. Since when had my innocent sibling turned so observant?

Though, I did move out of our house and into Roy's. So that may have been _some_ indication, but still…

And we hadn't even done anything worth mentioning. (Not that I talk about my sex life with Al or anything.)

Nervously I laughed, "W-We do. But, why are you asking in the first place?"

His determined gaze fell to the floor and I already knew the unspoken answer to my query.

"It's Winry isn't it?-"

Al shuffled his feet nervously.

"-Aww! Alphonse has got himself a little girlfriend. Took you long enough… Or wait, maybe you're gonna seduce her to make yourselves a couple. While that is a brilliant plan Al, but make _sure _you don't make her feel like a slut."

"_Brother!"_

"I'm just saying. Females are sensitive you know? No need to give her a reason to beat the pulp out of you."

Suddenly, he desperately grasped my shoulders and shook me roughly, "Brother! You don't think if I ask her she'll reject me, do you?" Fear shone through his eyes, less bright than the panic.

"I can't breathe Al," He loosened his iron grip, "And no -don't be an idiot- she's had a crush on you practically from toddler hood. Just do what _feels_ natural and it'll come to you."

With a new sense of determination and vigour he left through the door, small bell ringing alertly, as he whispered a chant of what I'd told him.

I chuckled again.

* * *

As usual, Roy arrived late, leaving me to gaze at one of Al's Wildlife magazines, and as much as I enjoy Bio related facts, learning how a hyena acquires prey was not what I would have preferred to doing on my time off.

Thus, the reason why I was glaring at him from my position on the chair at his house.

My method was simple: act like I couldn't talk when I was angry at him.

And damn did it _work!_

"Look, I _really_ am sorry! I got overloaded with work and had to stay to finish."

Forgetting my earlier thoughts of silence I hissed, "If you didn't procrastinate everything to the last minute then this wouldn't happen. Don't you think two and a half hours is a little long to wait in a store Mr. Mustang? When one's shift ends at seven?"

He nodded, and disregarded everything I'd said (otherwise he would have argued against his work habits), grabbed me by my waist, lifted me across the coffee table and onto his lap.

I _hate_ how being short makes me light.

The bastard even equipped himself with the nerve to begin nuzzling my neck.

I'll admit the sensations nearly made me lose all sense I'd had. And that I was leaning into the ministrations. But a particularly sharp bite snapped me out of it.

"Cut it out Roy! I'm trying to make a point!"

Really, what good was a lecture/argument when the subject was not even paying attention?

"Roy!"

He continued to ignore me.

I pushed against his chest that he'd some how managed to turn me facing against and threw an icy glare at him.

He pouted.

"I'll make it up to you."

When he picked up where he left off, I just let it go.

Though, through our heated exchange, Roy lightly pushed me down onto the couch and leaned on top of me.

A warning went off somewhere that I ignored.

His hand drifted past my (now exposed) chest and to the loose drawstring holding his borrowed sweats onto my much smaller frame.

The warning morphed into a _scream._

I roughly shoved him back up and scrambled away to the other end of the couch

Fighting to control my rapid breathing, I gripped the pillow underneath my arm and gasped harshly.

That was the furthest we had ever gotten.

And apparently, Mustang didn't like it one bit.

"Alright Ed, I'll bite. What _is_ with you?" I refused to attempt to respond. "I mean, I can understand you being a little nervous. But you should know that I'd_ never _intentionally hurt you." I nodded numbly. "Then why the hell do you panic like that, every time?" My eyes clouded over.

I hung my head low, and Roy stopped his rant upon glancing at the dark spots appearing on his velvet couch. He connected me to be the culprit.

"Oh, come on. _Please_ don't cry," He tried to reach for my wrist to pull me into a hug, but I slapped him away.

His face became stony, and he came to me instead, stopping my desperate surge to get back from him.

My hands flailed fiercely, some hitting him until he captured my weapons and pinned them above my head.

I whimpered.

Every time, it wasn't Roy whom I was seeing.

"I'm serious. You'd best tell me what is going on," His deep tone increased my apprehension and delusions.

_A shadowed face over mine._

_A body on top of mine that I could not move._

_Hash words that frightened me._

_A tight grip locking me in place helplessly._

It was _all_ the **same**.

"Let me go," I whispered hopefully in a warning tone. Sadly, it came as more of a plea.

When the demand was not met I brought up my legs against my chest, prepared to push with all my strength.

That is until a hard and angular pelvis bone dug into my knees from above, I cried half in pain, the other in shock.

_I was fucking pinned!_

Bucking what I could move I repeated my earlier words over and over and over.

_I couldn't move!_

Roy tried to calm me down with words. It was only making me worse.

_How could this happen again?_

I screamed, thrashing back and forth wildly.

"Ed sto- Ed! Stop it! _Edward!"_

"Get off me, _Envy!"_

The hoarse call sprang forth from my throat before I could even think exactly what it meant.

Immediately, Roy let go of me, stood up, and backed off a few steps. All the while watching me sob pitifully on his couch.

"W-What did you say?"

I didn't repeat myself.

He heard _enough._

* * *

An hour.

It took me a whole friggin hour just to calm down and cease crying, through which Mustang sat near me, but not beside.

Smart man.

To my dismay, he made me tell him who Envy was, as well as what had happened.

Though he had seen Envy's beaten and mangled body at the crime scene, I guess he'd thought nothing so emotional had occurred during my stay there.

But, with this new evidence he was surer than _ever_ that he could get me off on self defense. Especially since _he_ had assaulted me in the past as well.

But, in regards to my comfort on the whole relationship level, he said he understood completely.

And that he wouldn't initiate anything until _I_ was ready.

Exactly when I threw myself into him I'm not positive, however, I do know that I've never felt a place safer.

* * *

The morning after came sooner than I would have liked, but was there nonetheless.

We had both fallen asleep on the cramped couch and I know I woke up sore as hell. Even though I'd been lying on Mustang the _entire_ time.

And the watch in my pocket left a huge indent on my thigh.

I stood and stretched, smirking at Roy's pained look when his own back cracked from a brief raise of the arms.

Maybe it was a way of putting the past behind me, or maybe to carry it with me. Whatever the reason, I carried my pocket watch everywhere with me now. Strange I know, and when Roy asked me why, I found I _couldn't_ answer.

So, I dug it out of the loose pants and casually flipped the lid open, gazing at the inscribed date.

But a quick flash of silver caught my eye for a split second.

_Must've imagined it._

_Hell no, _it was there again and again.

"Fuck," the murmur fell from my lips as the watch did from my trembling hands.

"You know, you shouldn't why your things break if you do those kinds of things to them," Roy idly commented.

A shiver brought me to my hands and knees, eyes fixed on the face of my watch.

I heard him get up and come behind me.

He put a hand on my shoulder and was about to ask If I was okay.

When his sight followed mine though, a different message came out. "Well, I'll be _damned_."

I curled my fingers into the soft carpet and tugged harshly. "But why? Why _now_?"

Roy put an arm over my back casually. "I think it's because you've finally decided to move on with everything. That your time is starting to pick up-."

Cutting off his explanation I swivelled left and curled backwards to him.

What had I said before?

'_Maybe I'm waiting for someone to save me?'_

Looking at Roy now, I guess he did help in a way.

But, I think someone who was wiser than I tried to teach me that sometimes one must save _themselves_.

Roy stroked my hair for what felt like the umpteenth time these past weeks. I rested my face on his shoulder.

The watch lay, forgotten, hands reading 11:02 A.M., the _exact _time of the kitchen clock ten feet away.

* * *

_AN: I can't believe it's actually over._

T.T

_I feel so hollow, as if an empty spot were left in my heart where this story used to reside._

_Well, thank you to reviewers and readers alike, the ride truly has been interesting along the way._

_And it _is_ the last chappie, so leave comments to your heart's content. _


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